Carson Chronicles
by Milkbottle
Summary: Death Eaters at the World Cup? Panic inducing. Her best friend's scar hurting? Well shit, Voldemort's-gonna-kill-Harry kind of worrying. The TriWizard Tournament and said best friend's suspicious inclusion? Okay, things are getting a little creepier. But romance? Sweet Merlin, this couldn't possibly be happening to her… GW/OC. On a permanent hiatus—I'm very sorry.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

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><p><em>Brenna! WE'RE GOING TO THE WORLD CUP - Ireland vs. Bulgaria, Monday night! Dad managed to get some prime tickets through his job at the Ministry, and you have to come! Hermione and Harry are coming too - Mum sent a letter to his uncle through Muggle post, though I'm not sure she had to put so many stamps on. Send on a reply through Pig as fast as you can!<em>

_See you soon - Ron_

_P.S. Ask your Mum if you could stay on with us for the rest of the summer holidays - Harry and Hermione are staying too._

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><p><em>ARE YOU SERIOUS? That's brilliant! Mum said I can come along - she also agreed to my staying on at the Burrow for the rest of the holidays, so I guess I'll see you at around 10 'o' clock tomorrow morning.<em>

_Missing you guys lots - Brenna._

_P.S. You named the little bugger Pig? Really? What in this godforsaken world possessed you to do that?_

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><p>It was a bright, cheerful morning - the sun was shining happily, there was not a single cloud to be seen for miles, all the trees seemed to be dancing gracefully to the gentle blow of the breeze, and birds of all sizes and colors were singing merrily to commemorate another wonderful day.<p>

In a darling little house perched atop a tiny hill, just a bit further away from the friendly town of Wickfordshire, a black-haired, blue-eyed little boy skulked into his big sister's bedroom, eyes glinting mischievously as he jumped on her bed and proceeded to give the sleeping girl the perfect awakening for a perfect day.

A few moments later, stormy grey-green eyes snapped open when a truly horrendous sound invaded her ears - the high, screeching voice of her brother, grating painfully on her nerves and almost shattering her eardrums.

"OH YE, WE WILL PREVAIL, AS WE PLAY TO-"

She shot out of the bed and pounced on her brother, her short black hair flying wildly as she slapped a hand over the annoying little git's mouth to stop his absolutely dreadful wailing. The tiny brown owl that was perched atop the closet started hooting loudly in response to the sudden disturbance in the peace and quiet of the room.

"JACOB, you bleeding sod!" The girl hissed, glaring at him angrily. "Why in the name of Merlin's baggy Y-fronts would you _do _such a thing?"

The boy's eyes appeared to smile humorously at her as he opened his mouth from beneath her hand and-

"EW!" The girl shrieked, pulling her hand away and wiping it furiously on her blue T shirt. "You licked me!"

"Gee, way to state the obvious, sis," Jacob rolled his eyes as sat up and folded his arms across his thin chest. "Now are you going to thank me or not?"

"THANK YOU?" The girl exploded, eyes glinting dangerously as she roughly pushed her inky black locks away from her face. She was most certainly _not _a morning person. "You barged into my room _without my permission_, jumped on my _bloody bed _while I was sleeping_,_ and then started singing the bloody Irish Quidditch team's bloody_ anthem_ at the top of your bloody grating _voice,_ almost making me go _deaf_, and you expect me to _thank you?_"

"Well, yes," Jacob looked at her seriously, though the tiny, barely noticeable smirk on his face gave him away. "Or didn't you see the time?"

The girl faltered, staring wordlessly at her brother, before she slowly turned around to see her owl alarm clock flashing: 9 35 A.M. in brilliant green numberings.

"Oh my fu***** God, I haven't even finished packing yet!"

"BRENNA CARSON! Do not use that kind of language in front of your little brother!"

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><p>Brenna Carson was late.<p>

So very late.

She huffed angrily as she shimmied her way through a pair of jeans shorts and hastily threw on a loose grey T shirt, mentally cursing the beings above for plaguing her with such horrible luck first thing in the morning.

As soon as she was done, she ran out of the bathroom door, zoomed down the stairs and then burst into the kitchen yelling "just gimme some toast, I'm gonna be late!" Her gaze then zeroed in on the plate of freshly prepared toast, the bowl of bacon and the glass of orange juice sitting on the counter, and she hurriedly rushed over and started shoveling the pieces of bread into her large mouth. Her mother knew her very well.

Sadie Carson watched bemusedly from the kitchen table as her scatterbrained daughter finished the toast and then downed the juice in record time.

"What's the time now?" She questioned as she hesitated for a second and then shoved a handful of bacon into her mouth.

"Ten to ten," her mother said, her amusement evident in her tone. The fourteen year old scowled at her and then ran out of the room, grabbing another handful of bacon as she went.

Brenna chewed furiously as she rushed back up the stairs and flung open her bedroom door. Jacob, to her immense surprise and displeasure, was still in her room, playing with her owl, Mo. She made a face at him for a moment and then walked over to her closet and started dumping everything left inside into the open trunk sitting by the striped walls of her bedroom.

"You're a lousy packer," her ten year old brother commented, eying her as she shoved an armful of clothing into the wooden trunk.

She didn't bother gracing him with a reply, choosing instead to throw a random pillow at his head.

"Ow!"

"Oh, shut up, the thing's as light as a feather, it couldn't possibly have hurt you that much."

Jacob simply stuck his tongue out at her. "What's the time now?" She asked him, staring at the trunk thoughtfully.

"Almost ten. Aren't you done yet?"

"Yeah, I think so. Let's go down." She locked her trunk and picked it up with ease. "Bring Mo," she ordered and then ran out of the room, the trunk clunking noisily behind her.

"Sure, whatever, your highness," Jacob muttered, though luckily she didn't hear him.

Once she reached the living room, she set the trunk firmly next to the fireplace and then started running around, looking for her shoes. "Mum? D'you know where my black converse are at?"

"I think I saw them below the stairs," her mother's voice rang through the room. "Though what they're doing there, I have no clue."

"Thanks!" she yelled, and then rushed out again. When she'd come back in, her mother was standing by the fireplace, the bowl of Floo Powder in her hands.

"You all ready?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at her questioningly.

Her daughter nodded, albeit unsurely. "I'm pretty sure... Mail me anything I've forgotten?"

Sadie laughed and nodded, holding out the bowl. "Well, you're actually on time. I didn't really think you'd make it this time around, you know?"

Brenna stuck her tongue out at her chuckling mother as she took a pinch of the powder and threw it into the fire, smiling slightly as the flames turned a beautiful shade of emerald green. She then hugged her mother tightly, burying her face in her mother's shoulder and taking in her warm, flowery scent. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jacob slowly inching away from the two of them in hopes of avoiding getting crushed, so she reached out and pulled him into the hug as well.

"Brenna," he whined, his voice muffled.

"Shut it, you," she muttered before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "EW, BRENNA!"

"See ya, runt," she said cheekily, and then with one last smile aimed at her mother and brother, she picked up her trunk and owl cage and stepped into the sparking green embers, shouting, "the Burrow!"

The last thing she saw before she was whisked away from her home, was the minute hand of the living room's wall clock moving to _12_, the chimes echoing quietly through the room.

She'd made it on time.

Right on the dot.

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><p><strong>AN**

So I've never written a fanfiction before - I usually stick to reading and reviewing, though I figured I might as well give it a whirl. It's something new, so I'm not sure it went that well, though I still hope you were satisfied.

Oh, and I wouldn't mind receiving a review or two either. Constructive criticism is welcome, though flames are not appreciated.

Again, I really, really hope you liked it.

-icemice0123


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Brenna squeaked and snapped her eyes shut as she tumbled out of the Burrow's kitchen fire and onto the house's wooden floor, her trunk and owl cage flying out of her hands.

Although rather luckily, she happened to have a soft landing.

How come?

Why, she landed on top of George Weasley, of course.

"OW! What the..." George let loose a string of extremely creative profanities that she was sure he would never have uttered in front of his mother - who, coincidentally, wasn't in the kitchen at the moment.

"Well gee, George. A mouth like that, you could be a sailor!" She said brightly, before climbing off of him and picking up poor Mo's cage, from inside which the tiny owl was hooting angrily. She tried to calm the little guy down, but he ignored her and then started hooting louder than ever.

"BRENNY!"

A redheaded missile suddenly rammed into Brenna, sending her back onto George, who groaned and started swearing profusely again.

"GEORGE WEASLEY!" Mrs. Weasley snapped as she also entered the kitchen, with a grinning Fred, a disapproving Percy, an amused Mr. Weasley, and two snickering unknowns following close behind.

"OUCH, Ron!" Brenna exclaimed at the same time as Mrs. Weasley as she got up again, rubbing her sides in pain.

"Eheh, sorry. I didn't mean to do that," Ron said, turning a really bright red. She rolled her eyes and hugged the lanky boy loosely, before pulling back and frowning at him slightly.

"What- what's wrong?" Ron questioned.

"You're taller than me now," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"That's not a very hard thing to achieve, Bren, you're abnormally tiny," Fred grinned as he pulled (a still moaning) George back up from the floor. She made a face at him behind his back and then cuffed him on the head.

"OW, woman!" He exclaimed before pulling her into a tight hug and ruffling her hair.

"Oh, my GOD, Fred," she said in a high falsetto, clutching her short black locks dramatically. "I spent AGES getting it perfect!"

"Now why on _earth_ do I find that so hard to believe?" he replied, settling down on one of the chairs and grinning at her in amusement.

She stuck her tongue out at him as she set the owl cage on the kitchen counter and then heaved herself up, swinging her legs absently. One of the unknowns - the one with the cool fang earring and the long hair in a ponytail - came up to her and held out a hand.

"Bill Weasley. Nice to meet you," he said to her, smiling.

She stared at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, and then beamed happily at him. "Brenna Carson. Nice to meet you too."

Mo, apparently miffed at being ignored for so long, twittered madly and started flapping his wings to get Brenna's attention.

At once, her face snapped towards the cage and her eyes widened before she opened the door and let the angry owl out. "Sorry, Mo!" she said, smiling sheepishly. The owl and swooped down and nudged her head with his claw. "Mo!"

"I didn't know Ron's friends were so amusing," the other unknown said, smiling widely. He was pretty stocky, she observed, and he had burns all over the visible parts of his body. Most definitely...

"Charlie Weasley," he informed me, holding a hand out.

"Brenna Carson," She repeated, reaching forward to shake his hand. It was rough and calloused, and she could feel blisters all over his fingers.

"-Not to swear like that! There are _children_ in this house, George! You should know better than to utter such despicable phrases in our home!" Mrs. Weasley was saying to George as she reached up and boxed his ears.

"Merlin's beard!" He exclaimed, rubbing his ears dramatically. "I was just run down by a hyperactive puffball not once, but twice! Didn't you see? You call yourself a mother, hurting your beautiful child like that when he's already in so much pain!"

The 'puffball' in question made a noise of outrage as she swung her arm back and nailed George smack in the back of his head with a wooden spoon, inwardly congratulating herself for the perfect shot. Thank _goodness _for awesome chaser skills. "Who you calling a puffball?"

"OUCH!" He yelled out before turning on her. "That's the third time you've injured me today, Carson! Are you _trying _to kill me?" His expression was very serious, she noticed, but the mischievous sparkle in his eyes said otherwise.

"No!" She shot back, but then paused to mutter quietly, "at least, not at the moment," and then continued, "but seriously, why would you be so stupid to stand _right _in front of the bloody fireplace when you _knew_ I was going to be coming around this time?" Ron snorted.

"Watch your language, dear," Mrs. Weasley reminded her while bustling forward to gather her in a crushing embrace.

Her grey-green eyes widened as all the wind was knocked out of her. Her arms started flailing wildly, her face crushed into the loving woman's ample bosom.

"Sorry ," Brenna said, breathing hard when she finally released her. She heard Ron, Fred and George snicker loudly but chose to ignore it for the moment, taking in the homey atmosphere of the Burrow as she looked around blithely.

Her gaze fell on a tall, lanky boy wearing horn-rimmed glasses, his face buried in a piece of parchment, and it was only then that she noticed that Percy Weasley had had yet to say something to her. She observed him curiously, knowing that in a normal situation, he would have immediately jumped at the opportunity to scold her like a child- she knew he disapproved of her; she was too... disoriented for him to like.

"Hey Percy," she nodded at him. He looked up, frowning slightly as he pushed back his horn-rimmed glasses, muttered a small 'Hello', and then went back to his parchment.

Brenna inched closer to him in curiosity, not noticing every Weasley child in the kitchen shaking his head furiously at her in an attempt to caution her. "What are you writing?"

There was a collective groan when the redhead's face popped up from behind the parchment immediately, wearing an extremely pompous smile."Well actually," he began importantly, adjusting the glasses resting on his nose. "I'm writing a report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been-"

"Oh yes," Bill interrupted hurriedly. "Cauldron leaks. An extremely hazardous problem, that. I expect the report will be a great success - front page of the Daily Prophet, eh, Percy?" Everyone in the room, except for Percy and Mrs. Weasley of course, started snickering quietly.

Percy glared at him, apparently at a loss for anything to say, before smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles on his shirt and then walking purposefully out of the room, causing even louder chortles to burst out in the room.

"Oh, you boys," Mrs. Weasley scolded before walking out of the room - to comfort Percy, Brenna presumed, a smiling Mr. Weasley close behind.

Then Mrs. Weasley's head popped back in. "Ron, would you be a dear and show Brenna her room? Thank you, sweetheart!" And then she disappeared again without waiting for an answer.

Mo, who'd calmed down after his temper tantrum ten minutes ago, settled down on Brenna's shoulder, nipping at her ear affectionately, albeit a little sharply.

She rolled her eyes at her pet's behavior - she swore that he was bipolar - before turning to Ron. "Hermione here yet?"

"Nah," Ron shook his head. Brenna noticed his ears turning a suspicious shade of red. "She'll be here in the afternoon. Harry's coming at five."

"Oh," She nodded and then hopped off of the kitchen counter. Mo hooted once at the disturbance before perching on her shoulder again. "Okay then. Now be a gentleman and carry my trunk upstairs." She picked up the trunk with ease and thrust it into his arms. He toppled over.

"Ooh!" He groaned. The room started laughing again. "What've you packed in here? Rocks?"

"You're such a pansy!" Brenna sniggered, picking up the Mo's cage. George came up and picked up the trunk with as much ease as she had done, his Quidditch muscles bulging. "It's not that heavy, Ron," he told him, shaking his head. "You really need to work out more."

Brenna hauled the blushing redhead up and set off along the narrow hallway, waving at the others in the kitchen before doing so.

"So you're supporting Ireland, I expect?" She asked them while they climbed up the zigzagging staircase.

"Defini-" George started.

"No way!" Ron interrupted. "Bulgaria's got Krum! There's no way they'll lose this time."

George rolled his eyes as Brenna blinked, looking surprised. "Well, I know Krum's a good seeker and all, but really, Ireland's got a really strong team as a whole, this year," She reasoned. "The chasers are unbeatable, Ron. And we all know that the chasers are the most important part of the team. There's no way they can be beaten." Mo hooted sensibly, as if agreeing with what she had said.

"That's what we've been trying to tell him all week!" George exclaimed, throwing his arms up in slight exasperation. "He doesn't seem to be registering any of our words, though."

Ron glared at his elder brother and shook his head."No, I'm telling you, Krum's awesome. They'll definitely win. And besides, you're only saying that because _you're_ a chaser, Bren."

Brenna shared an aggravated glance with George behind Ron's head as they entered Ginny's room. She saw that two camp beds had already set up, and was surprised to see Ginny out cold on her bed with her arms spread out wildly, quiet snores coming out of her mouth as she slept contentedly.

Brenna stared at the redheaded preteen's sleeping form in astonishment. "She slept through _that_ commotion?" She asked astonished, pointing vaguely towards the open door.

George and Ron didn't look so surprised. "She could sleep through an explosion, that one." George stated, smiling down at his sister, whose mouth was wide open.

Brenna sat down on the camp bed closest to her and George placed the trunk next to it. "So you and Fred got your OWL results this year, right? How did they go?" She asked the elder brother, looking at him questioningly.

"Oh," he grinned. Ron snickered. "We got three OWLs. Each."

Her mouth dropped open into a comical 'o'. "How come so less?" She asked, and then blushed slightly when she realized how rude her words sounded, but George payed no heed.

"We don't really care about exams, actually," he told her, plonking himself on top of her bed, his head slightly bumping her thigh. "Now it's all about Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

"Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes?" She echoed, eyes narrowing in confusion. "Whats-?"

"Fred and I were thinking about opening a joke shop instead of getting an actual job," he cut in. "We had everything planned out too - a list of stuff we'd invented, their price lists, a few prototypes, and a bunch of other stuff."

"Really?" Brenna said, impressed. She knew the twins were brilliant, but not _that _much.

"Yeah, it was all very good and all, but then Mum found out," Ron informed her as he settled down on the floor Indian style. George's eyes darkened. "She was cleaning through their room when she came across their order forms. Horrible day."

George sighed, rubbing his face wearily. "She went ballistic. Told us we're not allowed to make any more stuff, and burnt all the forms. All our hard work!" He moaned. "Gone to waste!"

"Ooh," She cringed visibly. "You must've felt really angry."

"No kidding," Ron scoffed. "There was a huge row, because Mum wanted them to get Ministry jobs like Dad, and they told her that all they wanted to do was open a joke shop."

"What did you both make?" She asked, curiosity filling her to the brim.

"Fake wands, trick sweets, stuff like that," George told her, closing his eyes.

"It was brilliant. I never knew that they'd been inventing stuff like that," said Ron.

"Yeah, well, we weren't going to tell anyone," George said. "But no matter, it's not like we can't start again or-"

"Hey!" Ginny's hoarse voice rang over them. "Keep it down! I'm trying to sleep here!"

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><p><strong>AN**

So this is the second chapter. I hope I managed to portray the characters properly.

Also, to SpadesAndClubs, aPaperheaRt, Willow and Adara for their reviews - thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts with me. I really appreciate it!

Hope you liked Brenna.

-icemice0123.

P.S. please review! (:


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

"Oh, hey Gin," Brenna greeted, waving slightly at the disheveled teenager, who was glaring at the three of them sleepily. Ginny mumbled incoherently and fell back into her bed, before shooting back up and squinting at the black-haired girl sitting across from her.

"Bren?" she said unsurely, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Brenna grinned. "Last time I checked."

Ginny just stared at her for a few seconds before squealing loudly and jumping at her excitedly, all sleep flying out of her eyes. Brenna fell out of the camp bed in surprise, accidentally knocking her elbow into poor George's face.

"Ooh," he groaned, rubbing his reddening cheek as Ron burst out laughing. "That's going to bruise."

"Ginny! Calm down!" Brenna exclaimed as she pushed the redhead away gently and then scrambled into a sitting position on the floor. She smiled at George sheepishly. "Sorry, George."

"You're here! You're here! Oh thank Merlin!" Gin said, pulling the other girl into another, slightly less enthusiastic hug. "There's only so much of testosterone a girl can take!"

Brenna patted her back awkwardly, not knowing what else to do. "Yeah... so now that you're awake... can we go downstairs now?"

Ginny nodded and got up. "Let me just freshen up a little bit."

Ron and George went on ahead (George jokingly claiming that he wanted to get as far away from Brenna as he could - she was a bloody hazard to be around); leaving Brenna to wait for Ginny.

She came back a few minutes later, and the two of them made their way down, talking about who would be taking up the school's open DADA post this year.

"Dad said that someone who worked for the Ministry would be coming this year, though he didn't mention who," Ginny was saying as they walked into the crowded kitchen. Brenna squeezed herself in between Ron and Fred, who were sitting along with George on top of the kitchen counter, while Ginny took one of the chairs beside Bill and Charlie.

"What were you guys talking about?" Ginny asked.

"Eh, we were just thinking of squeezing in a match before lunch - we have just enough time for one," Bill said before looking scrutinizingly towards Brenna, who's eyebrows furrowed curiously at his intent observation.

"So, Brenna." he started. "Ron, Fred and George tell me you're a decent Quidditch player?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I play chaser for the Griffindor team."

"Brilliant!" Charlie exclaimed as he stood up, smiling brightly. "We have just enough players for a match now. Let's go get our brooms."

Around ten minutes later, everyone was gathered in the Quidditch pitch behind the house. Brenna was grinning from ear to ear, her broom - a Nimbus 2002 which her mum had bought her for her thirteenth birthday - shining in her hands.

"So how about this," Bill said as he brought out the Quidditch equipment. "We have two chasers and a beater to each team, and a common keeper - that would be Charlie - no seeker though. Sound good enough?"

All of them nodded impatiently and Bill smiled, satisfied. "Alright. Captains?"

The teams were selected with Fred and George as captains - Brenna and Bill went to Fred's team while Gin and Ron went to George's.

And thus the game began.

Two hours later, the jolly group made their way back inside, dirty and bruised, but really happy. Fred's team had won - but only by a close shot.

"Great game," Ron was saying enthusiastically as he walked in alongside Brenna and Ginny. "Too bad we lost though. Wish Harry were here - he would've enjoyed it."

"Yeah," Brenna agreed, smirking slightly as Ginny turned a beautiful shade of tomato red when Harry's name was mentioned. "But it doesn't matter - we'll play another game when he comes this evening."

Lunch was a happy affair. Everyone was in elated spirits after the amazing match, and before long the entire table was engaged in an enthusiastic debate on which Hogwarts dessert was the best.

"It_ has_ to be the treacle tart!" Brenna protested, talking a large bite of Mrs. Weasley's delicious roast beef. "Have you even tasted it?"

"Of course I have," Charlie waved it off. "But the rice pudding is by far the best I've ever had. There's no room for arguments!"

"Now, you're both wrong," George claimed gleefully. "It's the chocolate eclairs that taste the best. They're _heavenly_."

"What's wrong with you people?" Fred said incredulously. "Did you even bother _trying_ the apple pies? Simple, but utterly ravishing!"

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><p>Hermione arrived around half an hour after lunch was over. Brenna, Bill and Charlie were sitting in the kitchen discussing Charlie's job as a dragon keeper when the flames of the kitchen fire suddenly flashed green and a bushy head popped out of the fireplace.<p>

"Mione!" Brenna cried out happily and leaped up to steady the poor girl, who was still stumbling from the ride, as Bill relieved her of her trunk while Charlie tried to grab hold of the orange furball that was running around their legs. "You're here!"

Hermione blinked a bit and then smiled, hugging the living death out of Brenna. "Bren! It's good to see you!"

She hugged her back and then waved a vague hand towards Bill and Charlie once she released her. "This is Bill and Charlie Weasley, Ron's elder brothers."

Hermione smiled formally and held out her hand. "Pleasure to meet you both."

Bill had barely moved forward to shake her hand when there was another rampage as Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Fred and George hurried into the room. "Hermione!" Ron cried before tackling her in much the same way as he had done Brenna.

The room burst into quiet giggles as a surprised Hermione toppled over with Ron on top of her. He got up almost immediately. "Sorry, sorry!" He exclaimed, his face burning brilliantly.

"It's okay, Ron," Hermione managed to say as she staggered up, blinking once or twice to steady herself. "Though I'm sure we could have done without so much... enthusiasm."

Ron blushed even deeper, which Brenna would have thought to be quite impossible, before Ginny broke the awkward (only for Ron and Mione) atmosphere by barging into the already crammed kitchen and throwing her arms around Hermione yelling, "Oh Merlin, you're finally here!"

Ginny then decided on a whim that since all three of them were finally together, some girl talk was at hand. She dragged a doubtful Hermione and an unwilling Brenna up to her room and then, after spending about three torturing hours talking about boys, makeup, boys, new products, boys, and guess what? Boys; she looked at Brenna's pleading puppy dog eyes and then finally relented and decided to stop. Brenna just about managed to stop herself from running down with freedom and joy as they made their way downstairs - she figured Ginny wouldn't be too pleased with her if she did.

When they entered the kitchen, the boys and Mr. Weasley were debating on who would be going to pick Harry up from his home - apparently the Muggle relatives he was living with were causing a bit of a problem.

"Okay," Mr. Weasley was saying as he rubbed his forehead wearily. "Ron, Fred, George - you can come. But no funny stuff!" The last part was directed towards the latter two, who simply smiled innocently.

"Why I'm appalled, father," Fred said as he donned a mock-hurt expression. "We would never do such a thing!"

"How could you have such little faith in us?" George said, putting a hand on his heart dramatically.

Mr. Weasley sighed exasperatedly. "Enough of that now. I don't suppose anybody else wants to come?"

"Ooh!" Brenna raised her hand and began jumping up and down like a little kid. Everyone looked at her bemusedly. "I wanna come! Can I come?"

Mr. Weasley sighed again. "Okay, fine, you can come. Now can we leave?"

He took a pinch of Floo powder and, tossing it into the fire, stepped into the fireplace and shouted out: "Number 4, Privet Drive!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

So the ending's not that good - I didn't know how else to finish up though. And I know it's rather short, at least compared to the previous one, but it's just sort of like a filler chapter - nothing major happened except for Hermione's arrival, so... anyway, the next chapter's got Harry's first appearance in it :) - finally, huh? I'm really excited to see how that'll turn out.

I hope you liked it.

-icemice0123.

P.S To .Uchiha, SmilesForAll, EbonyRey and Willow: thank you for your kind reviews, I'm really glad you enjoyed the chapter.

P.P.S Also, Thank you XxX Fred Weasley's Wife XxX, SayaHikariUchiha, SpadesAndClubs and SmilesForAll for adding _Carson Chronicles _to your story alerts; and FutureRulerOfTheWorld for adding me and the story to your favorites list. I really appreciate it. :)


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Fred followed soon after Mr. Weasley disappeared, following whom it was Brenna's turn. She stepped hurriedly into the flames, shouting out the address, and started preparing herself for another toss to the ground, but then suddenly, the ride slowed down and she banged through a brick chimney and rammed straight into Fred and Mr. Weasley.

"OW, what in the name of Merlin's soggy left TESTICLE-" she exclaimed, rubbing her neck in pain.

"-OUCH! Brenna, no, there's no room, go back quickly and tell George and Ron - no, George!"

Brenna groaned loudly as George's form came tumbling through the already crowded chimney and slammed her face first into a wall.

"Ooh, my nose, MY NOSE!" Brenna moaned.

"Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad." Fred reasoned - Brenna could hear amusement in his voice. _Oh yes, you're laughing now, we'll see who's laughing later... _ "Maybe he'll be able to get us out-"

"Great idea!" George said, his voice muffled because his face was squashed rather terribly against one of the chimney walls. All of them immediately began hammering with their fists all around the walls.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear us?" Mr. Weasley called.

A few minutes later, Harry's voice came up the chimney - there was amusement in his voice too. "Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?"

Brenna immediately stopped the hammering and shhh'd the others to keep quiet.

"Mr. Weasley, it's Harry... the fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there."

"Damn!" Mr. Weasley burst out. Brenna's eyes widened. "What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"

"Did he - did he just _swear_?" She asked George dubiously.

"I - I think he did," George answered, sounding equally surprised.

"They've got an electric fire," Harry explained. Brenna nodded thoughtfully as if she'd actually understood what he'd said. "Really?" said Mr. Weasley excitedly. "Eclectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that... Let's think ... ouch, Ron!"

Ron, bless his stupid soul, had decided that now was the best time to come and join them and their merry parade.

"What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"

Brenna rolled her eyes. "Now why on _earth_ would you think that? What could have _possibly_ gone wrong, Ron?" She said sarcastically.

"Why, this is exactly where we wanted to end up!" Fred exclaimed.

"We're having the time of our lives here!" George piped up, waving his hands around. One slapped Brenna in the face. "OW!"

"Boys, Brenna..." said Mr. Weasley vaguely. "I'm trying to think what to do... Yes... only way... Stand back, Harry."

Suddenly, a booming voice rang up the narrow chimney walls. "Wait a moment! What exactly are you going to-"

Mr. Weasley withdrew his wand and fired the _bombarda_ spell. The wooden boards underneath them burst forward, and all of them came tumbling out of the fireplace in a cloud of dust and chippings."Ooh," Brenna groaned, rubbing her backside. "That hurt real bad..."

"That's better," panted Mr. Weasley, brushing dust from his long green robes and straightening his glasses. "Ah - you must be Harry's aunt and uncle!" He held out his hand towards an extremely large, purple faced man, but he quite rudely backed away several paces, dragging his bone of a wife along with him.

Brenna got up and dusted herself, letting lose a long string of swear words that would've made a nun blush.

"Eh, sorry about that," Mr. Weasley said, lowering his hand and looking back toward the ruined fireplace. "It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see - just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking - but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don't worry. I'll light a fire to send the boys back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate."

The Dursleys just looked at Mr. Weasley weirdly as if they hadn't understood a single word of what he'd said. The bony lady staggered up again... and then hid behind her walrus of a husband in fright.

Brenna rolled her eyes at their behavior and moved forward to give Harry a friendly hug. His aunt and uncle inched backward a little bit more. "Hi, Harry! How you doing?"

Harry hugged her back and a huge grin spread across his face. "Hey, Bren. I'm doing fine."

"Hello, Harry!" said Mr. Weasley brightly. "Got your trunk ready?"

"It's upstairs," Harry replied, his grin widening.

"We'll get it," said Fred at once. Winking at Harry, he and George left the room. Brenna vaguely wondered how they knew where Harry's room was as she looked at Mr. Weasley in amusement, who was glancing around rather awkwardly. "Well," he said, swinging his arms slightly. "Very - erm - very nice place you've got here."

Brenna raised her eyebrows as she took in her surroundings - the entire living room was now covered in dust and rubble and bits of brick and cement. Oh, yes. A nice place, indeed!

As expected, this remark didn't sit well with the Dursleys - the man's face turned an even brighter shade of purple, and the lady started chewing on her tongue. But peculiarly, they seemed too scared to say anything.

Scared. Of Mr. Weasley! Who would've thunk it?

Brenna could see that the dear old man would give anything to go and examine the strange muggle contraptions lying about in the (now destroyed) room, but he seemed to be restraining himself for the sake of the other two.

"They run off eckeltricity, don't they?" he said, nodding knowledgeably. "Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs," he added. "And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries. My wife thinks I'm mad, but there you are."

Both of them clearly thought Mr. Weasley was mad too. The man moved ever so slightly to the right, blocking the stick lady from view, as if he thought Mr. Weasley might suddenly run at them in a fit and attack.

Brenna rolled her eyes again.

Muggles.

Just then, a very fat boy with a pudgy round face barged into the room noisily. He edged forward with terrified eyes and tried to hide himself behind his parents in apparent fright. Then quietly, from the safety of his father's considerably large arse, he looked around the room and the people in it, before his gaze landed on a bored looking Brenna.

His eyes brightened and his face broke into an extremely shuddersome grin as he made to move toward the unsuspecting girl.

When Brenna finally noticed what was happening, her eyebrows raised up to her hairline and her expression altered into that of incredulity as she eyed the approaching kid with horrified eyes. _Oh, why in the name of Merlin's pants..._

"This your cousin, is it, Harry?" Mr. Weasley said, trying to make conversation.

"Yep," Harry said, eyes twinkling as he watched Dudley come to a stop in front of Brenna, ignoring his mother's and father's shouts of warning. "This is Dudley."

He held out a pudgy hand towards her and smiled in what he must've felt was a charming way, but really, it just looked terrible, and said in a greasy voice, "A pleasure to meet you."

She blinked at him and then stared at his fat hand, which was still extended towards her. Reluctantly, she reached out and shook it - but only for a second - and nodded. "Yeah, totally..."

Brenna waited for him to let go of her hand, but he didn't seem to be doing so anytime soon. She tried to pull away, but he just seemed to hold on tighter. Grimacing, she peeled his fingers off of her hand with her other free one, subtly wiping them both on her sides. _Oh, that was absolutely disgusting..._

Out of the corner of her eye, Brenna saw Harry and Ron exchange glances and then look away, their faces contorted as if the urge to laugh was way to overwhelming. She glowered at them angrily, offended at the fact that they actually seemed to find amusement in her sorrow and misery.

"Having a good holiday, Dudley?" Mr. Weasley said kindly.

He looked away from Brenna and whimpered like a little kid.

Brenna rolled her eyes _again. _He was such a pansy!

Fred and George chose that moment to enter the room carrying Harry's school trunk. They glanced around and spotted Dudley, who had apparently returned to leering at an uncomfortable Brenna creepily, and their eyes simultaneously narrowed and then lit up as their faces cracked into identical evil grins.

"Ah, right," Mr. Weasley said finally. "Better get cracking then."

He took out his wand and re-lit the fireplace. The Dursleys all shrank away from the group, pressing their backs into the walls.

Mr. Weasley then brought out the small bag of Floo powder, took a small handful and tossed it into the flames, which turned emerald green. "Off you go, Fred!"

"Coming," said Fred. "Oh no - hang on -"

A bag of sweets had spilled out of Fred's pocket and the contents were now rolling in every direction - big, fat toffees in brightly colored wrappers. Fred scrambled around, cramming them back into his pocket, then gave the Dursleys a cheery wave, stepped forward, and walked right into the fire, saying "the Burrow!" The woman gasped as there was a whooshing sound, and Fred vanished.

"Right then, George," said Mr. Weasley. "You and the trunk."

Brenna helped him carry the trunk into the flames and turn it a bit so he could hold it better. Then, with a second whoosh, George had yelled "the Burrow" and vanished too.

"Ron, you next," Mr. Weasley said.

"See you," he waved to the Dursleys. He grinned widely at Brenna and Harry and then stepped into the fire, said, "the Burrow" and disappeared.

"Brenna, go on now," Mr. Weasley said to her. She nodded immediately and hurriedly moved towards the hearth. She wiggled her fingers at the Dursleys, who were slowly relaxing; winked at Harry, who was smiling broadly; shot an uncomfortable glance at Dudley, who was waving at her enthusiastically; and then yelled out ''the Burrow" and spun away from there to tumble out of the Burrow's kitchen fire with a relieved expression on her face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

Well, hi.

So um, I'm sorry I didn't update sooner - I had a few tests going in school, so I didn't have enough time to post another chapter. Anyway. This is Harry's first appearance. I don't think it was that great, but I still hope it kept you satisfied! (:

Special thanks to: xCedric's Girlx, Mrs. Black, SmilesForAll, EbonyRey and Tangleddove15 for your awesome reviews! - EbonyRey: I managed to find those tiny mistakes you pointed out and correct them. Thanks for that, by the way. I really appreciate your constructive criticism. :)

Also, to ColtFan165 and CreativeKazi: thanks for adding Carson Chronicles to your favorites list. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. :D

Tangleddove15, EbonyRey, Tayla Wayland, SethEchelon, and AngelWeasleyxxx: I appreciate that you've added this story to your alerts. Thanks for that, really.

So then, I think that's it.

I reaaally hope you liked the chapter. Please review!

-icemice0123


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

"Did he eat it, did he eat it?" George asked eagerly as he hauled a disgruntled looking Brenna off the floor.

"Eat what?" Brenna questioned as she sat down on the kitchen counter, before her eyes widened with realization. "Oh Merlin, the candy-"

"They're Ton-Tongue toffees," George nodded, smiling wickedly. "The git deserved it, the way he was eying you!"

Brenna blinked a bit before raising an eyebrow, her mouth forming into an amused grin. "You did that _for me_? Aw, how sweet of you, Georgie! And here I thought chivalry was dead!"

Everybody sniggered as George cuffed her slightly on the head, his ears reddening slightly. "Shut it you," he said. Brenna just stuck her tongue out at him teasingly.

Just then, the flames flashed green again and Harry burst into the kitchen, hands thrown out to prevent himself from falling face forward out of the kitchen fire.

"Did he eat it?" Fred repeated immediately, holding out a hand towards him to help him up.

"Yeah," Harry grinned widely. "What was it?"

"Ton-Tongue toffee," Fred replied brightly. "George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer!"

Brenna laughed along with the rest of the kitchen. Charlie grinned at Harry and held out a hand. "How you doing, Harry?"

The fourteen year old smiled and nodded at him, shaking his hand, and then did the same to Bill, who'd gotten to his feet, laughing.

A few seconds passed and the laughter in the tiny room reduced to a minimum. Bill and Charlie walked out of the room, talking about the Quidditch World Cup as they went. Brenna opened her mouth to say something, but then before she could, there was a faint popping noise as Mr. Weasley apparated behind George, looking abnormally angry. "That wasn't funny, Fred!"

"I didn't give him anything," said Fred, with another evil grin. "I just dropped it... It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" roared Mr. Weasley. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet -"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!"

Everyone burst out laughing again.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted. Brenna saw that his ears were turning redder and redder by the second - a sure sign of the infamous Weasley temper. "That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons-"

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" said Fred, throwing his arms up in the air indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," said George. "Isn't he, Harry?"

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," Harry nodded earnestly.

"That's not the point!" raged Mr. Weasley. "You wait until I tell your mother -"

"Tell me what?" Mrs. Weasley's voice came from behind them. Brenna started and looked ahead to see the questioning face of the Weasley mother standing at the doorway. She saw Harry and smiled at him. "Oh hello, Harry, dear," she said to him before her eyes snapped back towards her blinking husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley hesitated. Brenna knew that no matter how mad he was at George and Fred, he hadn't really intended to tell Mrs. Weasley about what had happened back at Harry's house. The man looked at his inquiring wife nervously, unsure of what to do.

Then from behind Mrs. Weasley, Brenna noticed Ginny and Hermione walking into the cramped kitchen as well. Both of them smiled at Harry, who smiled back, and then came to stand on either side of Brenna.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated in an overly calm voice, her eyes narrowing fiercely.

"It's nothing, Molly," mumbled Mr. Weasley, "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -"

"What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes -"

"Let's show Harry where he's sleeping, shall we?" Brenna cut in anxiously - she wanted to get out of the room before Mrs. Weasley exploded.

"He knows where he's sleeping," Ron said obliviously - Brenna fought the urge to face-palm. "in my room, he slept there last-"

"Let's _all_ go," Hermione said, looking at Ron pointedly.

"Oh," Ron thankfully caught on. "Right."

"Yeah," George piped up eagerly, trying to escape as well. "We'll come too!"

"You stay where you are!"

The five of them edged out of the room as fast as they could and set off along the highway and up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the house to the upper stories.

"What are Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes?" Harry questioned as they walked up.

Brenna snickered along with Ron and Ginny, but Hermione just pursed her lips in disapproval.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," said Ron quietly after the chuckles had died down. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that . . ."

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things," said Ginny. "We thought they just liked the noise."

"Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous," said Ron, "and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms... She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected."

"I heard that there was this big row," Brenna added, climbing the stairs two at a time. "because apparently Mrs. Weasley wants them to pursue a career in the Ministry like Mr. Weasley, and they told her that all they want to do with their lives is create a business for themselves and sell joke items."

Just then a door opened on the second landing, and Percy's face peeped out, screwed up into a very annoyed expression.

"Oh hello, Harry," he said. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We are not thundering!" Ron said irritably. "We're walking!"

Brenna frowned - she was getting really annoyed with Percy's pompous attitude. "We apologize profusely if we happened to disturb the top-sercret workings of the all-powerful Ministry of Magic, Mr. Weasley," she said tartly. "I do hope you'll forgive us." Percy scowled.

"What are you working on, anyway?" Harry said. Oh, sweet, _innocent_ Harry - damn you.

"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," said Percy smugly. We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year -"

"That'll change the world, that report will," said Ron.

Percy went slightly pink."You might sneer, Ron," he said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow bottomed products that seriously endanger -"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy's door slammed shut. The other four followed Ron up three more flights of stairs as shouts from the kitchen started echoing up to them. Mrs. Weasley had obviously found out about the toffees.

...Ron's room was so typically _Ron_ that Brenna had to laugh out loud. There were posters of the Chudley Cannons, Ron's favorite team, all over two of the walls, a fish tank with a large frog on the windowsill, and a large owl cage containing a tiny grey owl and a slightly larger brown one, both hopping madly up and down and twittering madly.

"_MO!" _Brenna said astonished, as she hopped over the camp beds and went over to the two hyper owls. She reached in and ruffled her adorable familiar's feathers. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in your cage up in Ginny's room?"

Mo hooted at her merrily and then proceeded to hit Pig over the head with one of his wings. They stared at each other for a silent moment before simultaneously jumping and starting to roll around the cage like little kids.

"That's adorable," Gin whispered as Ron tried to break them apart. Mo gave Pig one last flick to the face and then fell silent, but the grey bomber kept hooting excitedly. "Shut up, Pig!"

He edged his way into the four beds that were stuffed into the room. "Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," he told Harry as came to a sto beside Brenna. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work."

"Er, why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked unsurely. Brenna chuckled slightly and ruffled Pigwidgeon's bouncing head.

"Because he's being stupid," said Ginny, "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon."

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," said Ron sarcastically. "Ginny named him," he explained to Harry. "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. The only owl that doesn't mind him is Mo." Ron threw his hands up exasperatedly. "He annoys me too, come to that."

"Yeah, don't expect us to take you seriously, Ron," Brenna scoffed, rolling her eyes. "We know you love the little bugger - no matter how much you complain."

"Where's Crookshanks?" Harry asked Hermione now.

"Out in the garden, I presume," she said. "He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before."

"Percy's enjoying work, then?" said Harry, sitting down on one of the beds and watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling.

"Enjoying it?" said Ron darkly. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch... as I was saying to Mr. Crouch... Mr. Crouch is of the opinion... Mr. Crouch was telling me... They'll be announcing their engagement any day now." Ginny snorted.

"Have you had a good summer, Harry?" Hermione asked. Brenna settled down on one of the twin's beds. "Did you get our food parcels and everything?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," Harry said gratefully. "They saved my life, those cakes."

Brenna looked at Harry thoughtfully. "And have you heard from-" she began, but then fell quiet at Hermione's warning look. Her mouth dropped a little open as she snuck a look at Ginny, who was eyeing the four of them curiously. She'd forgotten that she was even there, and discussing Sirius in front of her wouldn't be wise - only the four of them and Professor Dumbledore actually knew of Sirius and believed in his innocence.

"I think they've stopped arguing," Hermione hurriedly changed the subject, quick to cover the awkward moment. She looked at Ron. "Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?"

"Yeah, all right," Ron said. The five of them left Ron's room and went back downstairs. Brenna mouthed a silent 'sorry' at Harry, who just nodded and grinned reassuringly.

They found Mrs. Weasley sitting alone in the kitchen, looking extremely crabby. "We're eating out in the garden," she said when they entered. "There's just not enough room for twelve people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two, she said to Ron and Harry, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she snapped, now directing her wand at a dustpan, which hopped off the sideboard and started skating across the floor, scooping up the potatoes. "Those two!" she burst out savagely, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard, and Harry knew she meant Fred and George. I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't. No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can..."

Brenna flinched as Mrs. Weasley slammed a large saucepan on the kitchen table and began to wave her wand at it. A creamy sauce began pouring from her wand tip as she stirred. "It's not as though they haven't got brains," she continued irritably, taking the saucepan over to the stove and lighting it with a further poke of her wand, "But they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble. I've had more owls from Hogwarts about them than the rest put together. If they carry on the way they're going, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office!"

Mrs. Weasley suddenly prodded her wand at the cutlery drawer, which shot open immediately with a large bang. Brenna dropped down to the floor as Harry and Ron jumped out of the way at an attempt to avoid the several knives that zoomed out of it and began chopping the potatoes vigorously, which had been tipped back into the sink by the dustpan.

"I don't know where we went wrong with them," said Mrs. Weasley, putting down her wand and starting to pull out still more saucepans. "It's been the same for years, one thing after another, and they won't listen to - OH NOT AGAIN!"

Brenna stifled her snort with a very convincing cough - it was best not to anger the frazzled lady any more than she already was, at the moment - Mrs. Weasley had picked up her wand from the table, and it had emitted a loud squeak and turned into a giant rubber mouse.

"One of their fake wands, again!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed frustratedly. "How many times have I told them not to leave them lying around?" She picked up her real wand roughly and turned around, only to find that the sauce on the stove was already smoking.

Brenna jumped back up from the floor and tugged at Hermione and Ginny's shirts. "C'mon," she said hurriedly. "Let's just get the plates and get out into the garden."

The three girls grabbed the plates and then all five of them hurried out the back door and into the back yard.

**A/N**

Okay, so this was the fifth chapter! Woot woot! :D

...so I know that the ending was extremely sucky, but I didn't know how else to wrap it up and the chapter was getting way too long!

I still hope you liked it though.

Anyway, thankyou angel2u, Tayla Wayland, EbonyRey, oliverwoodissohot, and Willow for your wonderful reviews. I hope you guys continue to like this story as much as you appear to right now. :)

To ellabell and oliverwoodissohot: I'm extremely grateful to you for adding this story to your favorites list - it really helps to boost my morale.

And lastly, to oliverwoodissohot, angel2u, TweetleT, and ellabell: I'm really happy that you've added Carson Chronicles to your alerts list. Hope I don't disappoint you guys in chapters to come.

I think that wraps it up, then.

Again, I really, really hope that you enjoyed this chapter.

Please review - I'd really appreciate it. (:

-icemice0123


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

The atmosphere was extremely hectic outside.

They had only gone a few paces before Crookshanks had come zooming out of the garden with his tail high in the air chasing a muddy little gnome. Brenna could see the gnome cackling manically as the ginger fur-ball tried to insert a paw into it's boot, trying to reach it.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the house, Brenna could see that Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly into the air and smash into each other loudly. Eyes sparking up excitedly, Brenna hurriedly deposited her plates onto one of the cloth covered tables and ran over to where Fred and George were standing, cheering along with them happily.

Bill's table then suddenly darted forward, catching Charlie's with a loud bang and knocking two of it's legs off. There was a noise from above, and Brenna looked up to see Percy's head peeking out of a window on the second floor, looking very annoyed.

"Would you keep it down?" He yelled, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose roughly.

Bill grinned up cheekily at his uptight brother. "Sorry, Perce," he said. "How are the cauldron bottoms coming on?"

Brenna smirked. "I'm sure they're coming along famously, right Percy?" she said.

Percy gave her a very dark look. "Actually, it's going rather badly," he informed her haughtily. "I can't concentrate with all that _noise!_ Keep it down, will you?" he snapped and then slammed his window shut. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie brought the two tables back onto the grass, and then with a flick of his wand, Bill fixed all the damages and conjured tablecloths out of nowhere.

By seven 'o' clock, the two tables were just about an inch from giving way under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Weasley's beautiful cooking, and the nine Weasleys, Brenna, Harry and Hermione were settling down to eat beneath a cloudless blue sky.

Brenna had seated herself in between Harry and George, the latter of whom, along with Fred (who was sitting across from her), was keeping her engaged in an interesting conversation about a few of their new products and inventions.

"We've got loads of things planned with those toffees, you know," Fred was saying to her, a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah, we were thinking of making a few that would sort of make you sick, you know, for skiving off classes or something like that," George nodded, his eyes glinting.

"We're doing one right now, actually," Fred whispered, leaning back and looking towards his mother subtly to make sure she wasn't listening in on their conversation.

"We're calling it the Nosebleed Nougat," George informed her lowly. "Of course, it's still in the testing stage right now. We've not yet managed to clear the side effects."

Brenna's eyebrows furrowed. "Side effects? What sort of side effects?"

George coughed uncomfortably at the question, making Brenna look at him curiously. "Well," he said, a slow blush rising up his neck. "The toffee kind of... gives us an _itch_, per say,in some er, unusual places."

"An itch," Brenna repeated. "In unusual places?" she asked, her eyebrows raising bemusedly.

Both of them flushed furiously. "Well um, we'd rather not mention them, really," Fred told her, adjusting the collar of his shirt awkwardly.

One side of Brenna's mouth raised to form an amused smirk.

"Oh, wipe that smile off your face," Fred said, shoving the girl slightly, but she just laughed at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered before looking towards Percy, who was currently telling his father all about his report on his precious cauldron bottoms.

"I've told Mr. Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Percy was saying. "That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time, I mean, its extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman -"

Brenna cringed slightly at the mention of the Department of Magical Sports head's name. It was no secret that the ex-Quidditch player had had a rather large crush on Brenna's mother, who worked as one of the main reporters of the Daily Prophet. Apparently, her mother had been assigned an interview with Bagman one time, and the man had been fascinated with her ever since.

It was pretty sad, really, because Sadie Carson didn't really return his romantic sentiments. Actually, the woman had once told Brenna that she was actually quite creeped out with it all, especially with the dozen red roses that would mysteriously appear on her work desk almost every morning at an attempt to _woo_ her.

Brenna had also had the misfortune of meeting the man once, and he'd been so smitten with her mother that she'd almost vomited in front of him then and there.

She'd tried hard to avoid him ever since.

"Oh Bagman's likable enough, of course," Percy was saying at the moment. "But how he ever got to be Head of Department... when I compare him to Mr. Crouch! I can't see Mr. Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realize Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?"

"Yes, I was asking Ludo about that," said Mr. Weasley, frowning. "He says Bertha's gotten lost plenty of times before now - though must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried. . . ."

"Oh Bertha's hopeless, all right," said Percy. "I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth ... but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr. Crouch has been taking a personal interest, she worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr. Crouch was quite fond of her - but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However" - Percy heaved an impressive sigh and took a deep swig of elderflower wine - "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Cooperation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organize right after the World Cup."

Percy cleared his throat significantly and looked down toward the end of the table where Brenna, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Fred and George were sitting. "You know the one I'm talking about, Father." His voice raised slightly. "The top secret one."

Brenna raised an eyebrow at him skeptically and then looked at Ron, who rolled his eyes and muttered quietly, "He's been trying to get us to ask about the event ever since he started work."

Brenna smirked. "Probably some exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons or something equally as boring," she said, reclining into her chair lazily.

Harry and Ron snorted into their food.

Brenna grinned and then tuned into Fred, George and Charlie's conversation, ignoring Percy's heated glower.

"It's got to be Ireland," Charlie was saying through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semifinals."

"Bulgaria's got Viktor Krum, though," Fred pointed out.

Brenna scoffed. "Krum's one decent player, while Ireland's got seven. There's no way they'll be winning!"

"Definitely," Charlie nodded. "I wish England had got through, though. That was embarrassing, that was."

"What happened?" Harry piped up enthusiastically from Brenna's other side.

Charlie scowled a little. "Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," he said gloomily. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg."

Mrs. Weasley conjured a few candles to light the darkening garden before they had their homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time they had finished, the sky had become pitch black and moths had begun to flutter low over the table. Brenna's eyes closed shut as she patted her stomach happily, feeling extremely well fed and at peace.

"So - have you heard from Sirius lately?" Ron suddenly whispered, causing Brenna's eyes to snap open abruptly. She quickly looked around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation before turning to her right to face Harry, eyes slightly wide with curiosity.

"Yeah," Harry finally said. "Twice. He sounds okay. I wrote to him yesterday. He might write back while I'm here."

Ron and Hermione nodded and looked away, satisfied, and began to strike up a conversation about something unimportant, but Brenna's eyes remained fixed on Harry. He looked uneasy, and his mouth was clamped shut like he was on the verge of bursting at the moment - he was obviously hiding something from the three of them.

Brenna's left eyebrow raised at him questioningly, but Harry just shook his head. _I'll tell you later_, he mouthed at her before closing his eyes sleepily.

"Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly and Brenna's gaze turned towards the woman, who was starting to clear the table hurriedly. "You should really be in bed, the whole lot of you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, if you'll leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time." She then turned to me. "Brenna, I'm not getting yours though, you mum's doing that, isn't it?"

Brenna nodded.

"Five days?" Harry repeated enthusiastically. "Wow - hope it goes as long this time too!"

"Well I certainly don't, Percy answered sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" Fred said, causing the younger people to snicker quietly.

"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, flushing an amusing shade of maroon. "It was nothing personal!"

"It was," George whispered to Brenna and Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it."

* * *

><p>It was late into the night, and everybody in the Burrow was sleeping soundly.<p>

Well, everybody except for one certain grey-green eyed girl, who was tossing about in her bed, eyes clamped shut tightly, trying and failing to fall asleep.

She turned one more time, facing the ceiling, before pushing away her covers with a quiet huff and sitting up, eyes unfortunately wide open.

She scanned the room quickly, rolling her eyes exasperatedly when she saw Hermione sleeping peacefully in the bed next to hers, tiny puffs of breath coming out of her mouth, and Ginny snoring loudly, her limps splayed all over hers.

With another frustrated huff, Brenna jumped out of her bed and walked out of the room, grumbling quietly.

She made her way downstairs quietly, and entered the sweet smelling kitchen, her face stretched into a childish scowl.

"...can't even get a few hours of sleep," she mumbled as she opened one of the kitchen cupboards and took out some of the leftover strawberry ice cream (it had a freezing charm on it).

" -get that tomorrow's the world cup but this is too much!" she exclaimed quietly, removing a spoon from a drawer and stabbing the container forcefully.

Just as she was about to take a mouthful, however, someone else walked into the kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" George muttered, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

She mumbled incoherently and then shoved the spoon into her mouth, swallowing the ice cream with a sour expression on her face.

George's eyebrows raised and his mouth formed a drowsy grin. "Sorry? I couldn't quiet catch that."

Brenna looked heavenwards before taking another mouthful of ice cream, scowling at the twin crabbily. "_I said, _that I was not feeling sleepy!"

George held up his hands in surrender, the grin still on his face. "Okay, okay, no need to bite my head off," he said.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Brenna grumbled and then stabbed at the container again.

Suddenly George was at her side, a sad puppy dog expression on his face. "Can I please have a little bit of the ice cream?"

Brenna's eyebrows raised before she made an indistinguishable noise and shoved the ice cream container into the pouting boy's hands. "Ugh, take it, you git," she said unhappily, though her scowl faded into a tiny frown.

George's eyes lit up and he hurriedly took a large spoonful of ice cream and thrust it into his mouth, cream spreading everywhere around.

Brenna stifled a snort as she watched George shoveling ice cream into his mouth messily, grinning from ear to ear. "You've got a little bit over there," she said bemusedly, indicating towards the lower half of his face. He paid no attention to her as he continued to eat.

Brenna shook her head with a tiny smile and then jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter, all thoughts of sleep (or lack thereof) gone.

"So what are _you_ doing up?" she said to him accusingly.

He paused mid bite and pretended to ponder over the question. "Well, I _was _sleeping pretty nicely, but was then rudely awakened because _someone_ (he looked at her pointedly here) had decided to barge down the stairs at bloody one in the morning, grumbling at the top of her voice for apparently no reason at all!"

Brenna rolled her eyes and cuffed the boy on the head. "I was not grumbling at the top of my voice!"

But the boy just grinned teasingly at her and then proceeded to shove more ice cream into his face. She huffed slightly and snatched the container away from him, ignoring his indignant 'HEY!'

"Shut up," she mumbled before taking a spoonful, eyes closing slightly as she ate the sugary goodness. "Your mum makes wonderful ice cream," she informed George, who was pouting again.

He made a grab for the container, but she quickly moved it out of his reach, flicking his nose with her free hand. "Ah ah ah," she tutted with a sweet voice, laughing at his annoyed expression.

"But my mum made it_, you said so yourself! _Gimme!_"_ He exclaimed as he tried to grab it again.

Brenna held it away for a few more seconds before taking pity on the poor guy and letting him take it, smiling as his eyes lit up with a delighted smile.

The two of them talked a little bit more about pointless things, deciding to share the ice cream between themselves - they figured it would cause a few less arguments between them.

Soon enough, the container was empty save for the last mouthful. Brenna was just about to put the spoon into her mouth before she saw George tilting his head to the side and pouting childishly - something that apparently always worked on her. Sighing, she reluctantly shoved the spoon into his mouth instead.

"Thanks!" he said gleefully as he licked the spoon clean. Brenna just rolled her eyes and shook her head, the sides of her mouth pulling up into a small smile.

The two remained quiet for a few moments, enjoying the comfortable atmosphere of the homey kitchen.

"You should try and get some sleep," George said suddenly, looking at Brenna with a little concern.

Brenna sighed but nodded. "Yeah, okay, I guess. See you tomorrow, Georgie," she said, jumping off of the kitchen counter and walking out of the room.

She'd just reached the doorway before she paused. Then, a little awkwardly, she came back and gave George a tiny kiss on the cheek, offered him a tiny grin, and then walked back out, a barely noticeable skip in her step.

She didn't notice the stunned look on the boy's face, nor did she see the blush creeping up his neck, though.

Brenna fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow after that unexpected encounter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

So chapter six! Woohoo!

Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, but I had a few tests going on in school so I couldn't really find the time to write another chapter. Anyway, I've added a little bit of Brenna x George into this one - I hope you liked it!

Now. To oliverwoodissohot, angel2u and EbonyRey: thanks for reviewing! I appreciate your thoughts. (:

Also, thanks for adding Carson Chronicles to your alerts list, creativewriter16. I'm glad you liked the story so much. :D :)

To all those who are presently reading this story: please review! I'd really appreciate it if you took a little bit of your time to tell me about your thoughts on my story. Constructive criticism is welcome, though I don't really like flames, so please refrain from doing so.

I think that wraps it up.

I really hope you enjoyed the chapter! ^.^

-icemice0123


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Brenna's eyes cracked open sleepily when she felt gentle arms shaking her awake.

"Brenna dear, it's time to wake up," Mrs. Weasley's kind voice whispered into her ear before moving away to wake Ginny and Hermione.

The girl muttered incoherently as she sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes groggily. Looking out the window, she saw that it was still dark outside. Groaning softly, she heaved herself up and then staggered into the bathroom to freshen up, her eyes half-closed.

When she stepped out five minutes later, feeling completely refreshed, she saw that Mrs. Weasley was no longer in the room. Hermione, who was sitting in her bed, made an indistinct noise before stumbling past Brenna and into the bathroom.

Her mouth quirking into a small smile, Brenna went over to her open trunk and pulled out a pair of black shorts, a blue Weird Sisters T shirt and a grey jacket, humming a happy tune under her breath.

The three dressed in silence save for Brenna's quiet humming, and then they made their way downstairs, Brenna bouncing ahead of the other two with a happy grin stretching across her face. "Mornin', Mrs. Weasley," she chirped as she bounded into the room.

"Honestly Bren, how could you possibly be so cheerful at this time in the morning? It's simply unnatural!" Ginny complained as they followed her in.

The black haired girl jumped up onto the kitchen counter, her grin never faltering. "What, is it a crime to be a morning person now?"

"In this ungodly hour, yes it is," George muttered sleepily as all the boys trooped into the room and settled down in the chairs. Fred's head hit the table as soon as he sat down and Harry was blinking repeatedly, trying and failing to stay awake. As for Ron, his head was lolling to the sides, loud snores emitting from his open mouth as a little bit of drool started to dribble from one side.

Brenna gave George a tiny smile, a pink tinge creeping up her neck as she recalled the previous night's events, before turning her head towards Ron and grimacing slightly. "Attractive," she muttered before prodding the snoring boy sharply, causing him to topple out of his chair. "HEY!"

"Oh, shut up, you sod. You know you deserved it," Brenna said, sticking her tongue out at the glaring redhead as the others chuckled halfheartedly.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Mr. Weasley walked into the room, his arms spread out. Brenna slapped a hand to her mouth at an attempt to muffle her laughter when she saw what he was wearing - an ensemble that contained what appeared to be a golfing sweater, a very old pair of jeans that were slightly too big for him and were held up by a thick leather belt, and a pair of really bright fluorescent yellow sneakers.

"What do you think?" he asked eagerly. "We're supposed to go incognito - do you think I look like a Muggle, Harry?"

Said boy nodded vigorously, trying to contain his chuckles but not doing a very good job at it. "Yeah, definitely, Mr. Weasley. Very good."

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" Fred said, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

"Well, they're apparating, aren't they?" Mrs. Weasley said, heaving a large plot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

Mrs. Weasley lightly slapped Brenna's shoulder, causing the girl to groan and jump off the table. Pouting childishly, she picked up a bowl of porridge and settled down into an empty chair in between Hermione and George instead.

"So they're still in bed?" Fred said grumpily as he lifted his head from where it was resting on the table and pulled a bowl toward him. "Why can't we apparate too?"

"Because you are not of age and you haven't passed your test," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Oh, will you wake that boy up? He's drooling on the table!" she gestured toward Ron, who had apparently fallen asleep again.

Ginny snickered and hit Ron across the head, making him jump up in surprise, eyes flying open. "I'm up, I'm up!"

Brenna rolled her eyes.

"You have to pass a test to apparate?" Harry asked, eyebrows scrunching together confusedly.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. "The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a license. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done property it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."

Brenna winced mid-bite.

"Er- splinched?" Harry said.

"When you leave a part of yourself behind," Brenna said helpfully as she spooned some porridge into her mouth.

Mr. Weasley nodded, pouring a large amount of treacle into his bowl. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move, either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts left behind..."

Brenna smirked amusedly when she saw the startled look on Harry's face.

"Were they OK?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Mr. Weasley said in a matter-of-fact voice. "But they got a heavy fine, so I don't think they'll be doing it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms - slower, but safer."

"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?"

Fred grinned. "Charlie had to take the test twice. He failed the first time. Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old lady doing her shopping, remember?"

"Yes, but he passed the second time, didn't he?" Mrs. Weasley said defensively over the hearty sniggers that had burst out in the small room.

"Why do we have to wake up this early, anyway?" Ron questioned as he shoveled porridge into his mouth, although he must have still been pretty sleepy because most of the porridge was ending up _outside_ his mouth rather that in. "It's bloody six fifteen in the morning!"

"We've got a bit of a walk," Mr. Weasley said the same time as Mrs. Weasley gave her usual reprimand, 'Language!'

"Walk?" Harry asked. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No no, that's miles away," Mr. Weasley said, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup..."

"George!" Mrs. Weasley snapped suddenly, causing Brenna and everybody else to jump.

"What?" he said innocently.

"What's that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs. Weasley snapped and pointed her wand at George's pocket. "Accio!"

Several small, brightly colored toffees zoomed out of George's pocket; he tried to grab them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's waiting hand, some bouncing on Brenna's head in the process. "Ow!"

"We told you to destroy them!" Mrs. Weasley said furiously. "Empty your pockets. NOW!"

Brenna looked at the two of them pityingly as Mrs. Weasley shouted the Summoning Charm repeatedly, causing Ton-Tongue toffees to zoom out from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-up of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted angrily at his mother as she threw the toffees into the dustbin.

"Oh, a fine way to spend six months!" She shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get enough OWLs!"

The next five minutes were spent in silence as everybody finished their breakfast quietly. The atmosphere was not very pleasant as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering at nothing as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though definitely not as much as the twins, who had picked up their rucksacks and walked out of the kitchen without so much as a word to her.

"Well, have a lovely time," Mrs. Weasley said. "and behave yourselves," she called after the twin's retreating backs, but they didn't acknowledge her in any way - not even a slight nod. "I'll send Bill, Charlie and Percy around midday," she said as the rest of them began to walk out of the room. Sighing quietly, she turned around and began to stir a pot on the stove.

Brenna was the last to leave, but just before she stepped out of the room, she made a spur of the moment decision. Turning back quietly, a watchful eye on the slumped figure of Mrs. Weasley, she pulled out her wand from her back pocket and muttered 'Accio' under her breath, grinning triumphantly as the Ton-Tongue toffees rose silently out of the dustbin and fell into her outstretched hands. Laughing softly, she left to rejoin the group, leaving an unsuspecting Mrs. Weasley in her wake.

It was just pure luck that she had happened across a specific rule of underage magic when she'd visited the Ministry once along with her mother. How stupid of the Ministry to only keep track of the _region_ where the underage magic was taking place, rather than the wand or the wizard himself. Since the house was filled with overage wizards, Brenna knew that she wouldn't get into trouble for doing that little bit of magic.

It was also good that Brenna was especially skilled in Charms, of course - Professor Flitwick had himself told her that she was far ahead than most other students in her year - even Hermione, but that was only by a close shot.

She ran to catch up with the merry group, stuffing the toffees into her pockets with a satisfied smirk on her face. Luckily for her, only Ginny had noticed that she had been missing.

"Where were you?" she hissed as the girl fell in to step beside her, her short black hair flying wildly.

"Tell you later," she muttered from the corner of her mouth.

They trudged down the dark, damp lane to the small village of Ottery St. Catchpole, the silence only broken by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they walked through the village, the dark black fading to a deep blue. Brenna's limbs, especially her bare legs, were beginning to freeze, but she didn't really mind that much.

The non-Quidditch players didn't have much breath to spare when they reached Stoatshead Hill, though Brenna, Harry and the twins maintained a steady pace, their rhythm unfaltering as they made their way up because of their high metabolism.

Hermione came over last, clutching a stitch at her side and gasping loudly.

"Now we just need the Portkey," Mr. Weasley said absentmindedly, replacing his glasses and squinting at the ground. "It won't be big... Come on..."

The group spread out in search of the Portkey. Fred and George made their way toward the right, their faces still set in identical scowls. Brenna saw her chance.

Sending a slightly apologetic glance toward Ginny, who was raising her eyebrows questioningly, she turned and ran over to where the two were heading.

"What do you want, Brenna?" Fred said irritably as he kicked at a stone on the ground.

Brenna smirked. "Oh, nothing, really. Though I did think you might want these..."

Their eyes widened comically as she produced the Ton-Tongue toffees from her pocket.

"What- how?" Fred sputtered, rendered speechless for what Brenna felt was the first time in his life.

"I just accio'd them out of the dustbin when your mum wasn't looking," she said, shrugging modestly.

"But you're not of age," George pointed out, the dumbfounded expression still on his face.

"So?" she questioned. "I found the loophole ages ago."

"And what if Mum finds out?" Fred asked.

Brenna's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, maybe she'll think a gnome sneaked into the kitchen and stole them, or something like that," she said, shrugging again.

The wind was suddenly knocked out of her lungs when she was attacked on both sides with a bone-crushing bear hug, causing her to squeak in surprise and the toffees to spill out of her hands.

"Have we ever told you how wonderful you are?" George asked her from somewhere above.

"You might've mentioned it a few times," she replied, her voice muffled because her face was squashed against one of the twin's chests. "Now can you please let me go? Your dad's calling for us."

And sure enough, Mr. Weasley's voice was ringing through the silence, calling for everybody to group in.

The two of them sighed and let go of the gasping girl. After picking up all the toffees from the ground and dumping them into George's rucksack, they ran over to where the others were standing.

"Ah, there you are," Mr. Weasley greeted them, glancing suspiciously at George's and Fred's matching delirious grins. "We were wondering where you three had gotten to."

Once the three had regained their breath (which didn't take that long), Mr. Weasley strode over to where two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side hilltop. The rest of them followed.

"Amos," he greeted, shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," Mr. Weasley said. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

And that was when Brenna had noticed the handsome seventeen year old standing awkwardly next to his father.

"Oh, yeah," Brenna said, her eyes widening in realization. "You're the Hufflepuff Seeker and Captain, aren't you? I remember you from last year's match..."

She trailed off as she saw that stoic expression on the twins' faces and the embarrassed one on Harry's.

"Hi," Cedric said to them all.

Brenna grinned at the boy. "Hi."

Everybody else repeated what she said, except for Fred and George, who merely nodded. Brenna rolled her eyes at their childish behavior.

And then, silence.

Brenna shifted uncomfortably as she waited for someone to start speaking. She'd never done very well with awkward silences. Most of the time, she would end up blurting out something random and completely pointless at an attempt to break it, making everybody just look at her strangely instead.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Amos finally asked, causing Brenna to sigh in relief.

"Not too bad," Mr. Weasley replied. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still, not complaining... Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy. . . ." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at Brenna, the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh, no, only the redheads," Mr. Weasley pointed out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's, Brenna, another friend, and Harry-"

"Merlin's beard," Amos exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

Said boy shifted in embarrassment as Amos's eyes immediately flicked over to the lightning scar on his forehead.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos. "Told us all about playing against you last year. I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will... You beat Harry Potter!"

Brenna's face was slowly forming into a scowl as the words continued to flow out of the man's mouth, and by the time he'd finished, she had begun to shout furious curses in languages she didn't even _know_ she knew inside of her head.

Cedric at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you, it was an accident..."

These words gave him a tiny little boost in the respect Brenna held for the guy, but she was still beyond angry at his father, who continued to speak undauntedly, like the pompous little man she was beginning to think he was.

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" Amos was roaring genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman... but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"Must be nearly time," Mr. Weasley said quickly, pulling out his watch. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," Amos said. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," Mr. Weasley replied. "Yes, it's a minute off. We'd better get ready..."

He looked at Harry and Hermione. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do."

With difficulty, what with their bulky rucksacks, the ten of them crowded around the moldy old boot held ouf by Amos. Brenna ended up stuck in between George and Cedric, the former shooting glares at the latter over her head.

"Three," Mr. Weasley muttered, an eye still on the watch. "Two. And one..."

Then immediately, Brenna felt as though there a hook behind her navel had been suddenly jerked forward, her feet lifting above the ground as her stomach turned uneasily and her shoulders banged against George and Cedric's. They were all speeding forward with a strong gust of wind and swirling colors, the pinky finger she had placed on the boot stretching almost painfully as though it was pulling her magnetically onward, and then-

Her feet slammed hard onto the ground, causing her to lose her balance almost comically, and fall backwards. She landed on her butt with a groan, letting lose a string of swear words.

Looking up, she saw that Mr. Weasley, Amos and Cedric were the only ones standing, though looking very windswept. Everybody else was on the ground, groaning and moaning loudly.

"Five past seven from Stoatshead Hill," a voice said from behind her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

And that's the seventh chapter. :)

It's the longest yet, actually. I hope you liked it.

Anyway. To angel2u, SayaHikariUchiha, CreativeKazi, twilightroxx37, EbonyRey, xCedric's Girlx, and UnperfectButLovingIt: thanks for the reviews! :D

To ScottishGal12 and Gwenny-Dear, I appreciate that you've added the story to your alerts list. I hope you'll continue to like the chapters to come.

And lastly to HayleeLovesIt, thanks for making this story one of your favorites. I really, really appreciate it.

Please review, everybody! It motivates me to write more. :P :D

-icemice0123


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

With a little squeak of surprise, Brenna got up quickly and turned around to see a pair of very crabby looking wizards, one holding a gold watch and the other a quill and a roll of ancient looking parchment.

Of course, it took all of her self control not to burst out laughing then and there when she saw what they were wearing - the one with the gold watch had on a tweed jacket and blue tights; the other, a kilt and a poncho.

"Mornin', Basil," Mr. Weasley said as he handed the mangy old boot to the guy in the kilt, who tossed it behind him into a bin labelled 'USED PORTKEYS'. With a closer look inside the box, Brenna saw an odd assortment of objects like an old newspaper, an empty Coca Cola can, and even half a Quaffle (the last one causing a little bit of indignation - she took her Quidditch very seriously).

"Hello there, Arthur," _Basil _(snicker) said. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some, I presume. We've been here all night..." he trailed of for a moment, rubbing his forehead wearily. "You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite. Weasley... Weasley..." He peered at his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory... second field, ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," Mr. Weasley said to him, and then beckoned everyone to follow him.

They set off across what looked like miles and miles of deserted moor, unable to make out much through the thick fog. As they were walking, Ginny caught up with Brenna and pulled her quietly aside.

"So?" she hissed softly, raising an eyebrow at the black-haired girl. "What happened back there between you and Fred and George?"

Brenna's mouth quirked up into a satisfied smirk. "Just doing them a little favor," she replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

Ginny's eyebrows went further up, almost disappearing into her hairline. "A favor," she repeated, her voice oozing skepticism. Brenna just nodded innocently. Ginny heaved out a defeated sigh. "That's all I'm going to get, isn't it?"

Brenna's smirk widened. "Yup," she said, popping the 'p', before bounding ahead to join Harry and Ron.

Around twenty minutes later, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Brenna could make out the faint outlines of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field across a dark horizon. Her face breaking into a large grin, Brenna chirped a happy goodbye to Cedric, who gave her an amused grin in return; ignored Amos completely except for the subtle middle finger she was almost positive he didn't see her raise but made Harry and Ron burst out laughing, and then sped up to reach the cottage before the others, her shapely legs moving quickly and gracefully.

As she approached the cottage, Brenna saw a man standing in the doorway, eying the tents a little apprehensively. With one look Brenna knew he was a Muggle - the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard her loud footsteps, he turned his head to look at her.

"Morning," Brenna said with a wide smile.

"Mornin'," he mumbled, looking at her warily.

"Are you Mr. Roberts?" Brenna asked.

"Aye, I would," Mr. Roberts said. "And where's yer family, lil' lassie?"

Brenna's looked affronted. "I am NOT a lit-" she started with an indignant frown, but before she could finish, Mr. Weasley's voice cut across hers. "It's Weasley. Two tents - booked a couple of days ago?"

Brenna turned around to see the entire group either shaking her head bemusedly at her (Mr. Weasley), shooting her a very suspicious evil grin (Fred and George), or smiling normally as if they were all used to her antics by now (everybody else). She stuck her tongue out at them in response.

"-You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?" Mr. Roberts was saying at the moment.

"That's it," Mr. Weasley replied.

"You'll be paying now, then?" Mr. Roberts said.

"All right - certainly," Mr. Weasley said before pulling Harry aside a little bit, presumably to ask about Muggle currency, Brenna figured.

The two returned a minute later, Mr. Weasley wearing a large smile.

"You foreign?" Mr. Roberts questioned when they reached the group.

Mr. Weasley's smile faltered. "Foreign?"

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," Mr. Roberts said, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hub-cups ten minutes ago."

Mr. Weasley's expression took on a nervous edge. "Did you really?"

Mr. Roberts searched through his tin box for change. "Never been this crowded," he muttered suddenly, looking out over the field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously.

Brenna decided to cut in. "It's sort of like a rally, really. One where everyone has to wear weird costumes. It's a lot of fun," she said helpfully.

Mr. Roberts turned his gaze on to her. "A rally? How come-"

But before he could continue, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts front door. "Obliviate!" he cried sharply, pointing his wand at the man.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts eyes glazed over, his eyebrows knitted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. "A map of the campsite for you," he said placidly to Mr. Weasley. "And your change."

Mr. Weasley accepted the items, giving the wizard who had obliviated Mr. Roberts a thankful grin. "Thank you very much."

The wizard accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: his chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman (insert cringe from Brenna here) isn't helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti- Muggle security Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur." He disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny, looking surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr. Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit, well... lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell-pulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Brenna could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Ah," Mr. Weasley sighed smilingly. "Nobody can resist showing off when we get together. Aha, here we are, look, this is us."

Mr. Weasley stopped in front of an empty space at the very edge of the wood, where a small sign reading 'WEEZLY' had been hammered into the ground.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He started rummaging through his backpack. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult... Muggles do it all the time... Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

Brenna hoisted her rucksack from her shoulders and eyed the drapes of cloth and the funny looking poles that Mr. Weasley had dropped onto the ground dubiously. "Harry, Hermione," she said finally, nudging the pegs with her foot warily. "You two were brought up by Muggles, right? You two do it."

The two of them shot her an exasperated look before settling down along with Mr. Weasley and examining the contraptions thoughtfully.

Around ten minutes later, Harry and Hermione had worked out where most of the pegs and poles should go, and even though Mr. Weasley had become more of a hindrance than a help because he had gotten so thoroughly overexcited when it had come to using a mallet, they had finally managed to successfully erect two shabby looking tents.

"Finally!" Brenna mumbled under her breath before picking up her rucksack and bounding into the smaller one. Inside, she was met with the strange atmosphere of an old-fashioned three bedroom flat - complete with the crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs, a worn out, moth-eaten rug, and a strong smell of cats.

"Lovely," she muttered as she dropped her bag onto one of the beds with a snort.

"Oh my goodness," Hermione's voice floated from the doorway. Brenna turned around to see her eying the room excitedly with a wondering expression on her face. "What a complex bit of magic! I wonder how-"

"It's not all that impressive, Hermione," Ginny said to her with a grin as she walked into the room as well. "You'll find much better ones in Diagon Alley, you know."

Hermione's mouth formed into a tiny 'o' as she went to her bed, all the while mumbling incoherently to herself, making Brenna shake her head with affection for the bushy haired fourteen year old.

Just then, Ron and Harry burst into the room carrying a bunch of kettles and saucepans in their hands. Out of the corner of her eye, Brenna noticed Ginny straightening out her hair and smoothening the wrinkles of her T shirt in a hurry, causing her lips to twitch upwards into an amused smile.

"What do you boys want?" Hermione asked the two, who were looking around at the tent aimlessly.

"We've got to go fetch the water," Harry informed them as he brandished the kettle he was holding at their faces.

"But, _Aguamenti-" _Brenna started, but Ron shook his head. "You know how excited Dad is about doing everything the Muggle way."

Brenna rolled her eyes again. "Oh alright, let's go," she said, shrugging off her jacket with a sigh and walking out of the tent along with the others. Ginny, who decided not to go with them, bounded into the next tent to go join her brothers, leaving the four best friends to go alone.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the fog clearing, Brenna could see the city of tents stretched in every direction. They made their way through the crowd, eyes flitting about with excitement and wonder in every direction.

Their fellow campers were just starting to wake up, and the first to stir were the families of small children - a little bit ahead of them, just outside a small, pyramid-shaped tent, Brenna saw a tiny boy no older than two holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As they drew level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Kevin? You - don't - touch - Daddy's - wand! Yechh!"

She had trodden on the giant slug, which burst with a disgusting squelch. Brenna's face twisted into a disgusted expression as slime dripped down the boy's body and the mother's feet.

Her scoldings carried on after them in the still air as they hurried forward, mingling with the little kid's delighted yells - "You bust slug! You bust slug!"

A short way ahead, the four came across a pair of little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks in the air with ecstatic grins on their tiny little faces. A Ministry official had already spotted them; as he scurried past Brenna, Harry, Ron and Hermione with distracted mutters under his breath- "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie in, I suppose -"

Here and there, adult wizards and witches began coming out of their tents and starting to cook breakfast for themselves and their families. Some were looking to their sides furtively before conjuring a fire with their wands, while others were pulling out tiny matchboxes and striking matchsticks against the side with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure they couldn't work.

They passed three African witches dressed in identical robes of silver and white, cooking what looked like a giant rabbit on a stake, and a bunch of happy looking American witches from the Salem Witches' Academy of America, when they suddenly came across a pair of teenage wizards on expensive looking Nimbus 2004s, tossing a Quaffle carelessly between the two of them as they flew just above their heads.

One guy's feet skimmed lightly across Brenna's black hair, causing the girl to make an indignant sound and spin around with an unhappy frown, the other three stopping just a little bit ahead of her.

He paused for a moment and then turned around on his broomstick with an apologetic smile. He was very handsome, Brenna noticed, with windswept brown hair and deep blue eyes that were distinguishable even from where she was standing. "Sorry, sweetheart," he called out with a wink, a slight Bulgarian lilt to his tone, before speeding up to join his blond friend, who was waiting for him by the side with an annoying smirk on his face.

Brenna's cheeks flushed a rosy pink as she turned back around and caught up with Harry, Ron and Hermione, an embarrassed smile on her face. She could practically _hear_ the smirks on their faces as she fell into step with them, they were _that _disconcerting.

"Shut up," Brenna muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"We didn't even say anything," Harry said to her with an innocent smile.

"Oh, but you were thinking it!" Brenna accused, the flustered expression never fading from her tiny face.

They walked on in an uncomfortable silence (only for Brenna) before _Ron, _of all people, went and saved her from any more humiliation that she would have had to suffer from the others - she could have kissed him for that.

She didn't, of course. That would have made darling little 'Mione incredibly jealous.

Besides, she didn't like Ron that way.

That would have been rather disturbing.

"Is it just me, or has everything gone green?"

Brenna looked up from the ground to see that yes, everything _had_ gone green. All the tents were covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked like small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. They had walked into Irish territory.

Then, from behind them, they heard their names being called out. "Harry! Brenna! Ron! Hermione!"

Brenna spun around for the second time in ten minutes to see the smiling face of Seamus Finnegan, a fellow Griffindor in their year, who was sitting in front of his own shamrock covered tent along with a sandy-haired woman that had to be his mother, and his best fried Dean Thomas, another fellow Griffindor.

"Like the decorations?" Seamus beamed. "Ministry's not too happy."

"And why shouldn't we show our colors?" Mrs. Finnigan asked rhetorically. "You'll see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, I suppose?" she added, eying the four of them beadily.

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Finnegan, definitely," they rushed to say, and when they'd finally assured the woman that yes, they were indeed supporting Ireland, they moved along once more, but not without a '_Looking good, Carson!' _thrown out at her by Dean, who was wiggling his eyebrows and grinning at her jokingly.

This, of course, caused said girl to go on another blushing tangent all over again.

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" Hermione mused after a while - Brenna had thankfully recovered from her mortification by then.

"Why don't we go and have a look?" Harry said, pointing to a large patch of tents up-field, where the Bulgarian flag was fluttering in the breeze.

Brenna smiled knowingly. "Autographed posters of Krum, definitely- aha! See, I told you!" she sang happily as they walked into a long lane of posters of a surly looking guy with really thick caterpillar eyebrows. All he did was grunt and scowl.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Krum!" Ron exclaimed. "Viktor Krum, of course! The Bulgarian seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," Hermione stated matter-of-factly looking around at the many posters blinking and scowling at them.

"Really grumpy?" Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable! And he's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see!"

"Sounds like our lil' Ronnie's got a _wee crush!" _Brenna said in a sing-song voice as they finally approached the tap in the corner of the field. There was already a small queue forming there.

Ron turned a furious shade of red. "I do NOT!"

Brenna waved a hand dismissively as they stopped behind a pair of men. "Really, Ron, you don't need to deny it, you know. We won't hold it against you. Or did you think so little of us, _your bestest friends_?"

Ron blushed even more. "Seriously, I don't-" he started, but was cut off by one of the men in front of them.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap," he said, holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers to the man standing next to him, who was wearing a flowery old nightgown - Brenna had to bite her lip to avoid laughing when she saw what was happening. "You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious -

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," the man said, shaking his head stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men. They wear these," the other one said, brandishing the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on!" said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Brenna burst into a quiet fit of hysterical giggles at this point, causing the four of them to duck out of the queue, only returning when Archie had finally collected his water and flounced away.

Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there, they saw more familiar faces. Oliver Wood, their old captain who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Brenna and Harry over to his parent's tent to introduce them, and told them excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemore United reserve team. Brenna had given him an enthusiastic hug at this in response, causing the strapping young man to blush slightly - he was quite obviously unused to female contact; the fact had made Brenna grin.

Next they were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a fellow 4th year, and a little farther on they saw Cho Chang, a pretty Ravenclaw who was in the year above them. She waved and smiled at Harry, and Brenna's mouth twitched into an entertained smirk when he slopped quite a lot of water down his front as he rushed to wave back. An embarrassed expression on his face, he hurriedly pointed out a large group of teenagers over by their side in order to divert their attention from him.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" he asked. "They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

Brenna sighed and patted Harry's head with a little exasperation. Sweet, innocent little Harry...

"S'pect they go to some foreign school," Ron replied as he looked them over. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil. It was years ago, and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended and sent him a cursed hat. Made his ears shrivel up."

They laughed a little bit at Bill's misfortune, and then before long, they were finally walking the final few feet to the Weasleys' tents.

"You've been ages," George said when they finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

"Met a few people," said Ron, setting the water down. "Brenna got hit on. You've not got that fire started yet?"

"Wait, come again?" George said when he realized what Ron had said. Brenna thought she saw something flash in his chocolate brown eyes, but then it was gone within a millisecond and, as his usual grin set over his face, Brenna wondered if she really _had_ seen anything or if it had just been her imagination. "Lil' lassie got hit on? By whom?"

"Ugh," Brenna groaned, covering her face with her hands. "You're really going to start calling me that?"

George just grinned at her. "Well of course, lil' lassie! What else would we call you by?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe my name?" she said with a sarcastic smile.

"Details," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Now what's this I hear about Brenna getting hit on?"

Ron blinked a bit. "Oh yeah, a guy on a broomstick. Bulgarian, I reckon. He sounded like one. You think he goes to Durmstrang? I hear Krum goes there..."

"Ooh, look here, Ronnie's _in loove!" _Fred said gleefully as he popped up beside George. Everyone burst out laughing.

"I AM NOT!" Ron exclaimed, flushing instantly.

"Whoa, déjà vu, huh, Ron?" Brenna muttered into his ear, making him blush even more.

"I swear, I am _not-_" he protested, but was interrupted by Harry, who felt a little pity for his embarrassed best friend. "What about the fire? You haven't got it started yet?"

"Nah. Dad's having fun with the matches, though," Fred said.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At last they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry's and Hermione's benefit, though - everybody else knew too much about the Ministry to be interested.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office... Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now... Hello, Arnie... Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know. And that's Bode and Croaker - they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?" Harry asked.

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to..."

At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

"Oh, hey guys," Brenna greeted them, getting two smiles from Bill and Charlie in response - Percy just ingored her as usual.

"Just Apparated, Dad," Percy said loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at somebody over Brenna's shoulder.

Eyebrows furrowing curiously, Brenna quickly turned her head around to see who he was waving at, and almost dropped the plate she was holding in shock and surprise when she recognized (with dread) the man who was coming up to join the group with a merry smile on his face.

"Aha!" Mr. Weasley said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

* * *

><p>So there you go! Chapter eight - I hope you liked it.<p>

Now, onto reviews and stuff:

To 3 fries short of a happy meal, CreativeKazi, xCedric's Girlx, twilightroxx37, EbonyRey and SmilesForAll: thanks for the awesome reviews.

To Adorkable93 and 3 fries short of a happy meal, thanks for adding the story to your alerts. I really appreciate it.

And lastly, to MuggleBorn-Jedi-Ninja and ChoppedAndScrewed. Thank you for adding Carson Chronicles to your favorites! I love you. Platonically, of course. :D

There you go!

Please review, readers! :) :P

-Plimpy Soup. (originally icemice0123)


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Making a sound strangely similar to that of a trodden mouse, Brenna hurriedly shoved her plate into Harry's hands and then literally _dove _behind George in an attempt to hide herself from the oncoming disaster.

"Oh, in the name of Merlin's _lacy undergarments_, why must it ALWAYS be me_? _Damn it, damn it, _damn it!_" Brenna ranted from behind George's back, looking up at the sky exasperatedly, as if honestly expecting the answer to her question to just... _fall _from the sky.

"What are you _doing?_ Get back up here!" George hissed at her as he tried to turn around, but Brenna grabbed his shoulders and held him firmly in place.

"It's Ludo! It's Ludo! Oh, the bloody stalker!" Brenna whisper-yelled, banging her head on George's back. He twitched.

"Cut that out, will you? And _what _are you even talking about? What about Bagman?" He whisper-yelled back, craning his head to look at the distressed fourteen year old, but she didn't reply, though she DID stop banging her head on his back, to her credit.

"Ahoy, there!" Brenna heard Ludo exclaim suddenly, making her squeak in surprise. She peeked out from George's side, cringing slightly when she saw the man bouncing over to their group like somebody had attached springs to the balls of his feet.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire. Brenna moved back almost instantly. "What a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming, and hardly a hiccup in the arrangements! Not much for me to do!"

Brenna heard some footsteps and peeked out again for a moment, to see Percy hurrying forward purposefully with his hand outstretched, a tight smile on his face. She paused her panic for a moment to shake her head in amusement - apparently, disapproval wasn't something that would prevent Percy from wanting to make a good impression on a higher authority. (sigh) Oh, Percy. You are such an idiot.

"Ah, yes," Mr. Weasley said. She could hear the smile in his tone. "this is my son, Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is George - no, Fred, sorry - _that's_ George - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter, Ginny, and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Brenna Carson- Brenna? Brenna, where are you?"

"Studmuffins," Brenna mumbled softly before plastering a sheepish smile on her face and popping out from behind George, all the while yelling out various obscenities at the man in front of her inside of her head.

"Sorry about that," Brenna said with a fake smile, ignoring all the strange looks she was receiving from everybody. "Misplaced a galleon, you see..." Bagman just waved his hand dismissively, all the while staring at her in this very weird way, making Brenna cough awkwardly.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued as if nothing had happened. "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've good such good tickets-"

Bagman just waved his hand again, as if to say it had been nothing, before turning back to Brenna with a really wide smile on his face.

"Brenna _Carson,_ you say?" He said smilingly. Percy looked at Brenna jealously, which she ignored. "As in _Sadie Carson_'s daughter? Why, last time I saw you, you were only seven! Look at how you've grown!"

"Yes, that tends to happen when time passes," Brenna said sarcastically, though the _sarcasm_ part seemed to have missed him.

" But grown?" Brenna heard Fred mumble incredulously. "The girl's a midget! How could she possibly have _grown?_" She reached behind George and cuffed him on the head. "OW!"

"What is it, boy?" Bagman asked him concernedly. Fred waved his hand. "It's nothing."

Everybody seemed to be waving their hands today.

It was like a... like a trend.

Brenna wondered how everybody would react if _she_ started waving her hands around like a lunatic for no real reason at all.

She sighed. They'd probably freak out and send her to the mental ward at St. Mungo's, she figured. It had almost happened once before, during her eighth birthday celebration, when she'd gone on a sugar high.

Mum never made her any sizzling sugar muffins again.

"Say," Bagman turned back to Brenna with a hopeful smile, making her lose her train of thought. She shot him a sort of annoyed look, but she didn't think he noticed it. "Is your mother here? She's covering the match, isn't she? One of the senior reporters of the Daily Prophet-"

"Oh, no, no," Brenna was quick to reply. "Rita Skeeter's been given the job, you see. Mum's on leave for a while..."

"Oh, that's a shame," Bagman said, looking crestfallen. Like a kicked puppy. "I was looking forward to seeing her here..."

"That's too bad," Brenna muttered. "She was looking forward to covering the Cup too, but nothing you can do, right?"

"No, nothing," he murmured, his eyes became unfocused, as if going into some trance. "She's really beautiful, isn't she? Your mother?"

Brenna gagged. "I guess she is.."

Quiet snickers began to erupt around her. Everybody seemed to be finding this conversation rather amusing.

Brenna shot them a frustrated glance. _She_ didn't.

"I see what you meant when you said 'stalker', now," George whispered suddenly into her ear. Brenna looked up at him irritably to see a large grin spreading across his face. "He's completely _smitten, _isn't he?"

"Oh, he's over the edge, he is," she mumbled, grimacing slightly. "This isn't half of it!"

She sot Mr. Weasley a pleading look, and the man decided to take pity on her and kindly _change the subject_. " So how's everything going, Ludo? All up to par?"

"Oh, yes, definitely," Bagman said, his eyes focusing again. Brenna smiled at Mr. Weasley gratefully, who just waved his hand in return. (see what I mean?) "Say, Arthur, fancy a flutter on the match?" He jiggled what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow and black robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match."

"Oh... go on then," Mr. Weasley said. "Let's see. A Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" He looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well. any other takers? Brenna?"

Brenna shook her head furiously, and Bagman turned towards the rest expectantly. "Anyone else?"

"They're a bit too young for gambling," Mr. Weasley cut in. "Molly wouldn't like-"

"We bet thirty -seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," Fred spoke over Mr. Weasley as he and George quickly pooled in their money. "that Ireland wins - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that!" Percy said scornfully, though _Mr. Bagman _didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, his face seemed to light up like a child on Christmas morning as he took the wand from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter. "Excellent! I haven't seen one this convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

Brenna looked at Fred and George incredulously. "Are you mad?" she hissed under her breath as she eyed the money in their hands. "That's all your savings, isn't it?" she demanded. "_Isn't it?"_

"Boys," Mr. Weasley mumbled. "Molly wouldn't want-"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" Ludo boomed, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance! I'll give you excellent odds on that one... we'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we?"

Brenna looked on helplessly as Bagman whipped out his notebook and quill and began jotting down Fred and George's names. A quick peek at Mr. Weasley told her his expression mirrored hers.

"Cheers," George said, taking the slip Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes. Bagman turned most cheerfully toward Mr. Weasley.

Brenna gave the twins _the look_. "Seriously, are you _mad?_ - No, don't make that face at me, you prats, listen. _Listen_." he voice dropped down a little bit. "Bagman's not to be trusted, okay? _Especially _not with money related stuff. He's a cheat, alright? He's a cheat and a sneak. I hear he's gotten into a bit of a tiff with the goblins at Gringotts, as well..."

"Really, Brenna, have you no faith in _us_?" Fred asked her in a mock-hurt voice. George sighed and ruffled her hair affectionately, making her scowl. "Just trust us, okay? We know what we're doing

"Yeah, right, sure. You definitely do, going about betting all your lives' savings with someone as sneaky as_ Bagman,_ of all people-" Brenna muttered darkly, but was cut off by Percy, who suddenly decided to exclaim "MR. CROUCH?"

"He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll," Fred said dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt." Brenna snorted.

Percy shot Brenna and Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha ... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!"

Brenna looked up from the blade of grass she was staring at to see a stiff, upright, elderly wizard dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie had just apparated at their fireside. The parting in his gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he had trimmed it using a ruler. His shoes were glinting with new polish, and you couldn't see one grass stain on the edges of his perfectly pleated pants.

Brenna snorted. He couldn't have made more of a contrast with Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his wrinkly old Wasp robes.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barry (insert snort from Brenna here)!" Ludo said brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," _Barry_ said, and Brenna could detect a pinch of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting that we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is that what they're after?" Bagman said. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy said breathlessly. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Brenna began to wonder if Percy was harboring some sort of secret crush on the incredibly stoic man standing in front of them as she took a sip of her tea.

"Oh?" Barry looked at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes, thank you, Weatherby."

Brenna choked mid-sip, as did Fred and George. Percy, who turned very pink around the ears, began to busy himself with the kettle.

"Oh, and I've been wanting a word with you as well, Arthur," Barry said, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley exhaled deeply. "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," Barry said, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," Barry said. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had strictly abided by the law.

"So..." Bagman cleared his throat. "Been keeping busy, Barty?"

Barry gave him a dry smile. "Fairly, yes. Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over, then?" Mr. Weasley said.

Ludo Bagman looked so appalled that Brenna had to bite her lip to avoid bursting out with laughter then and there. "Glad? Don't know when I've had more fun... Still, not as though we haven't anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty to organize, eh? Eh?"

"If he says 'eh' one more time..." Brenna mumbled under her breath. Harry, who overheard, began snickering so hard that Brenna had to elbow him in the side to make him stop before Bagman noticed.

Barry raised his eyebrows at Bagman.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -"

"Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts -"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Barry said sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for the other to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

Bagman looked at Brenna and beamed widely. "Brenna, say hello to your mother for me, will you? I haven't spoken to her in a while..."

"Uh huh, sure, will do," Brenna reassured him. "Goodbye, now!"

"I'll see you all later!" He said to everyone. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!" He waved, Barry nodded curtly, and then both of them disapparated.

Brenna instantly relaxed. "Oh, thank Merlin, I thought he'd _never _leave!" She exclaimed, wiping imaginary sweat off of her forehead dramatically.

"He's got a rather large crush on your Mum, doesn't he?" Ginny asked, an entertained grin forming on her face.

"Oh, you don't know _how_ large," Brenna groaned, laying back onto the grass and closing her eyes. "It gets rather annoying though. He can't seem to get a hint! He even followed Mum home, once, you know?"

"Really?" Harry asked. "That's sort of extreme, isn't it?"

"Extreme's not enough of a word to describe him, Harry-poo," Brenna said, ignoring Harry's scowl at his designated nickname. "Honestly, it's borderline obsessive."

"So what's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" Fred asked the question everyone was waiting to hear the answer for. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Mr. Weasley said, smiling.

Brenna sat up. "Define soon enough," she said curiously.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decided to release it," Percy said stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh, shut up, Weatherby," Fred retorted.

Brenna sniffed. "Yeah, why don't you take your bloody _Mr. Crouch_ and your bloody classified information and then _shove them up your_-" Harry slapped a hand across her mouth tightly, preventing her from finishing her sentence.

Percy looked at her as though she was a very unwanted stain on his perfectly polished shoes.

"Don't look at me like that, Weatherby. You know as well as I do that I don't really care."

* * *

><p>A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on and the beginning of the match came nearer and nearer. By dusk, the still summer air seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as night fell over the thousands of waiting people like a really warm, thick, cuddly blanket, the last attempts at pretence had disappeared - even the Ministry officials seemed to have given up and stopped fighting the numerous signs of blatant magic now popping up everywhere.<p>

Brenna was literally bouncing with joy and enthusiasm as she took in the hectic environment that was surrounding her.

Salesmen were apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of interesting merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland and red for Bulgaria - which were screaming out the names of their respective team's players in squealing voices, pointed green leprechaun hats that were bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves with lions that roared with all their might (which wasn't really much, since they all were the size of an egg), tiny models of Firebolts that flew around like a bunch of annoying flies, collectible figures of the players which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves, and lastly, flags from both countries that played their national anthems when they were waved.

The last one reminded Brenna of the morning she'd left for the Burrow, and she was hit with a gentle wave of nostalgia.

She sighed audibly as she handed seven Sickles to the salesman and took the little green flag he had held out to her, causing George, who was standing next to her, to look at her questioningly. "What's wrong, Bren?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Just wish Jake was here with me. He would've enjoyed this," she explained, her mouth quirking up into a tiny smile as they caught up with the others.

"Why didn't he come, anyway? I'm sure Dad would've been able to get another ticket for him..." George said.

"Well, yeah, I'm sure he could, but Jake's only ten, you see, and he hasn't even gotten a wand yet. Mum didn't want to take any chances in case something happened..."

"Aw, what could possibly go wrong? (oh, the irony)" George asked breezily, a grin lighting up his sharp features.

...

Woah woah woah, wait a minute.

Brenna backtracked a bit.

_A grin lighting up his sharp features?_

Brenna blinked. Where had _that _come from?

But before Brenna could think any further on the subject, though, Ron's voice broke through her musings, causing her to lose her train of thought.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron was saying from her other side. Brenna noticed that though he'd purchased a dancing shamrock and a large green rosette, he'd also gone an purchased a miniature figure of Viktor Krum, which was walking back and forth over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

Brenna cackled gleefully, making Ron eye her strangely. "I knew it! You DO have a crush on Bushy Brows! HAH!"

Ron looked appalled. "I do NOT!" he exclaimed.

"You lie!" Brenna accused, ignoring Hermione's dubious mutterings about Krum's new nickname.

"I do NOT!" Ron repeated, shaking his head furiously. "Really!"

"Uh huh," Brenna said, nodding her head skeptically.

"REALLY!"

"Right."

"I DON'T!"

"Sure, whatever you say."

"Bloody hell, Brenna, I really DON'T!"

"Oh, wipe that expression off of your face, _Ronald_. Or should I be calling you Mrs. Krum now?"

"BRENNA!"

"Oh, shut up, you two!" Hermione burst out - everybody else was laughing.

Ron glowered at Brenna, but she just smiled at him cheekily and gave him a one-armed hug (the other was filled with goodies). "Aw, you know I love you, Ronnie-poo."

"Don't call me tha-" Ron started to say, but was cut off by Harry. "Wow, look at these!" He said, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except they were covered with all sorts of strange looking knobs and dials and buttons.

"Omniculars," the saleswizard said eagerly. "You can replay action, slow everything down... and they also flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," Ron said, gesturing absently at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omniculars.

"Really, you should be rethinking your decision to buy the figurine, _not_ the shamrock, you loon," Brenna muttered as she stared at the Omniculars from between Harry's and Ron's shoulders. "You're just proving you're gay, now, you know. Gay for _lil' Vicky!"_

"Brenna, for the last time, I am NOT-" Ron started, but Harry interrupted him.

"Four pairs, please," he said firmly to the wizard.

"No, don't bother," Ron said, going really pink. Brenna sighed and rested her head on Ron's shoulder affectionately, causing the boy to flush a little bit more. She knew he always got touchy about the fact that he didn't have as much money as Harry did.

"You're not getting anything for Christmas," Harry said with a voice that left no room for argument, thrusting the Omniculars into his, Brenna's and Hermione's hands. "For about ten years, mind."

"Ooh, thank you, Harry, that is awfully nice of you!" Hermione said.

"Yeah, thanks Harry," Brenna said, kissing said boy lightly on the cheek in thanks. Harry flushed a bit as well, causing the girl to roll her eyes. "Oh, come on now, you _know_ I'm the touchy feely kind of person! When, oh when, are you going to get used to it?" She looked around at the stalls. "How about I buy us some rosettes? They look interesting.."

"Yes, and I'll get us some programs, look-" Hermione said, grabbing Brenna's hand and pulling her to one of the stalls.

It was only when she was handing her eight Sickles to the saleswoman in exchange for the four rosettes she was buying, that she noticed that Fred and George weren't purchasing anything.

Brenna's face formed into an annoyed frown. They had given all their gold to Bagman, the gits. They didn't have any to spend on souvenirs.

"Come on, Brenna," Hermione said, tugging on the girl's sleeve. "The others are heading back, look-"

Brenna cut her off. "I'll be right there in a minute, okay? Just something I forgot to buy."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "Do you want me to wait with you? I could tell-"

The other girl waved her off. "Naw, no need. I'll be right back with you in a few, it's okay."

Hermione looked unsure. "If you're sure-"

"Yeah, I'm sure, definitely."

"Okay, then, I'll see you at the tent. Bye then, Bren," Hermione said before turning around and following the others back to the tents. She looked back once more, still a little unsure, but Brenna just waved her on, before heading back to the Omniculars' stall.

"How much did you say for one, then?" Brenna questioned as she came to a stop in front of the excited man.

"Oh, ten Galleons only, a great bargain-"

"I need two, and I'll give you five Galleons for each, alright?" Brenna cut him off.

"Ey, now, that's too less. How about nine for each, that's good enough," the salesman said convincingly.

"Seven Galleons. Nothing more, nothing less. Or no deal."

He sighed. "You drive a hard bargain," he said, but Brenna just gave him_ the look_. "Fine," he caved, picking out two Omniculars and handing it to her. "Here you go."

Brenna's face cracked into a wide grin as she counted out fourteen Galleons and placed them into his waiting hands. "Thank you, mister. You're a gem, you are," she said, bouncing happily on the balls of her feet. The man smiled a small smile before waving her off. "Go on, now. It's getting late. The Cup's almost starting."

Brenna offered him one last smile before turning around and sprinting off toward the tents, the grin never slipping off of her face.

* * *

><p>"Where <em>were<em> you? It's almost time for the Cup, it is!" Bill hissed at her as she bounded into the tent, bumping into the lantern as she did.

"OW! Yeah, just forgot to buy a little something, nothing important," Brenna replied easily, before going to where Fred and George were sitting, separated from everybody else and intent in conversation.

She just stood behind them quietly, ignoring the curious looks she was receiving from the others, until the twins realized she was actually there (which was around.. twenty seconds, maybe? she didn't know).

"Brenna?" Fred questioned. "What's wrong? I-"

But he couldn't say anything else, because Brenna had chosen that moment to shove the two Omniculars into the twins' stomachs.

They both groaned simultaneously. "Wha?"

George picked up the Omniculars and stared at it. "What's this for?"

"More like _who_," Brenna corrected with a grin. "They're for you guys."

They both blinked at her dumbly - it was scary how in tune the two were with each other...

"Why?" Fred finally asked.

"Why?" Brenna echoed. "Because you _idiots_ spent all your money in bets with bloody Bagman! And it isn't fair how everybody else has souvenirs but you don't. So I bought you those." She plopped down on one of the chairs across from the two.

"But-" Fred started.

"Consider them late birthday presents. I didn't give you any this year, did I?"

"Yes you did, remember those scarves-" George began.

"Pft. Scarves. They're more like... companion presents. But forget about those. They were cheap, anyway. These," Brenna gestured toward the omniculars in their hands, "are much better."

They looked at her for a moment more, before their faces broke into simultaneous grins and they got up and buried her into a bear hug. "Merlin, Brenna. First the toffees, then these omniculars... how are we _ever _going to repay you?" George murmured from somewhere above her.

"I dunno. Maybe you could start a tab?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

Well, heeelllloo, there. :)

Sorry I didn't update sooner. (awkward cough) There's no excuse this time, though. I was just too lazy. Heh.

I promise I'll be regular now, though. Once a week, I _will_ update a chapter. If I'm jazzed enough, there may be two.

Now, I was really happy about the reviews I got this time. :D

Thanks to AcidPopsAndSugarQuills, BadaBing, SmilesForAll, gemmanolan, EbonyRey, 3 fries short of a happy meal, CreativeKazi, and agel2u, for your AWESOME reviews. We've already reached 42! I'm so ecstatic! :D :P

To chaoticmassacre14, lilygirl592, EvilMonkeyBabyD, AcidPopsAndSugarQuills, and wolfgirl517 for adding the story to your favorites list. That's the most I've seen in one go. You guys rock.

And lastly, to DarkAngel942 and EvilMonkeyBabyD, thank you for adding the story to your alerts lists. I really appreciate it. :)

Honestly, I love you guys. You all are so awesome. Like puppies. I love puppies. :P

To everybody that's reading the story: don't exit the page before reviewing - I'd love knowing your thoughts about my story and my main character.

I hope you like this chapter as much as you did the rest. :)

-Plimpy Soup (originally icemice0123)

P.S. Please review! =)


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

The atmosphere outside was absolutely chaotic when the Weasley group stepped out of their tiny tent.

Brenna could hear the sounds of _thousands _of people around them as they walked (well, in Brenna's case - bounced) to the stadium - there were shouts of laughter, snatches of singing, playful tones of banter...at one point, Brenna even saw this one sorry sod reciting a (rather terrible) poem dedicated to 'The Wonderful Mr. Krum' (AKA Bushy Brows) at the top of his voice.

"Would you check out that blighter?" Brenna murmured into Ron's ear, a slightly wicked smile creeping up her face. "You would've gotten along _famously_ with him, wouldn't you 've, Ron?"

He turned pink.

A really bright shade of pink that made Brenna burst out laughing.

"Aw, would you look at that? Our ickle little Ronnie's blushing!" She crowed.

"Shut up, Brenna," Ron muttered, his flush darkening to a rather embarrassing shade of maroon. "Honestly, would you give it a bit of a rest? It's not _that _funny, you know."

The fourteen-year-old skidded to a stop and stared at Ron incredulously. "..._No."_

One of Ron's red eyebrows quirked upwards. "No?"

She nodded resolutely. "_No."_

The other eyebrow went up as well. "No?"

"YES, no!" she burst, before marching forward and pulling Harry back from where he was walking with Ginny and Hermione, ignoring his shouts of protests (everybody else paused and started watching them like some sort of stupid soap opera). "HARRY will tell you!" she said firmly, shaking the confused boy's shoulder for emphasis.

"Harry will tell him what?" said boy questioned.

Brenna turned to him. "_Is _the fact that Ronnie poo's crushing on Krum getting _old? Is it not funny _anymore_?_" (she says it like she considers the very fact to be an abomination)

"I am not crushing on Krum-"

"Oh, shut up Ron. Let the boy speak. Harry?" Brenna _looked_ at him.

Harry blinked a bit before looking at Ron thoughtfully, following which a sheepish smile began creeping up his face. "Sorry, Ron."

(Brenna's face at the moment - XD

Ron's face at the moment - :O

Everybody else's face at the moment - :D)

"HAH!" Brenna shouted triumphantly as the group started walking again. "I AM THE KING!"

"Noo, Harry!" Ron said pathetically. "I am _not _gay!"

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't mean it's not funny, Ron. Sorry."

"You're a terrible best friend," Ron informed him with a glower.

Brenna punched him on the shoulder. "Stop acting like a girl, you sod. _You're a terrible best friend! _Honestly. It just adds to the gayness."

"Oh, Merlin's saggy bottoms, I am not bloody gay!"

"Bushy Brows will be _so_ disappointed."

"BRENNA!"

"That's my name, don't wear it out!" She said cheekily, and then, with a patronizing pat on the boy's head, she flounced over to join Ginny and Hermione, ignoring Ron's shouts of indignation, like everybody seemed to be doing lately.

They walked on through the wood for at least ten more minutes, talking and joking and teasing each other loudly, until finally they came out on the other side and found themselves enveloped in the shadow of a _gigantic _stadium.

"Whoa," Brenna breathed, gaping at the stadium's enormity.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Mr. Weasley informed them, spotting the awestruck looks on each of their faces. "A Ministry task force of five hundred has been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have gotten anywhere near here, they suddenly remembered urgent appointments and have had to dash away again... bless them, the poor souls," Mr. Weasley added, a fond tone to his voice. He led the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already overflowing with shouting witches and wizards.

"Stick close, you lot! I don't want you getting carried away!" He said as he maneuvered through the crowd.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry official standing at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Lucky you. Top Box - straight upstairs, Arthur, as high as you can go."

The stairs that were leading into the stadium were covered with a carpet of a really rich purple color. They continued their way upward along with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right.

They kept climbing, until at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point in the stadium, and situated exactly halfway between the golden gold posts.

Brenna, predictably, was absolutely elated. "Brilliant seats! I love you, Mr. Weasley, you are the best in the world, you are," she exclaimed gleefully as she plopped down on one of the purple-and-gilt front row seats with a wide grin and leaned across the balcony to take a peek down below.

There were a hundred witches and wizards moving about and taking their places in the infinite rows of seats, that rose in levels around the long, oval field. Everything was softly enhanced by faint golden light that seemed to be emanating from the entire stadium itself. The grass field looked as smooth as velvet, and right opposite them, just at their eye level, there was a huge blackboard with gold lettering dashing across it. They were advertisements, Brenna realized. The board was flashing advertisements across the field.

And as she took in the hectic atmosphere and feverish excitement that seemed to be surrounding her so completely, Brenna had to smile. She felt at home here, amidst the raging crowd surrounding the Quidditch field.

This was her place.

She knew she belonged here.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A faintly familiar voice murmured into her ear, causing the girl to jump in surprise.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you," the voice said.

Brenna turned slowly (reeeeaally slllooowlly) to her right, to see none other than Guy on the Nimbus sitting right next to her, an apologetic grin on his handsome face.

"Well, _shit!_" She screeched, almost falling off of her chair.

(For some weird reason, her friends, who were sitting to her immediate left, didn't seem to be paying attention at all.

How rude.

Hmph.

Some friends they are.

But back to the erm, _main _situation...)

The boy - well, _man_'s eyes, appeared to widen with realization. "Oh, hey, I remember you, you're the girl I-"

Brenna raised her eyebrows, having recovered from her moment of shock. "Almost kicked while flying? Yeah, that's me."

Guy on the Nimbus looked embarrassed. "I didn't apologize properly for that, did I?" he ran his hand through his soft-looking brown hair - Brenna absently wondered what it would feel like.

Running her hands through his hair, that is.

"I really am sorry about that, you know."

Brenna eyed him appraisingly, and after a few seconds of critical observation, decided he seemed sincere enough.

(That, and the fact that he was too cute to pass up, of course.)

"Eh. Okay, I'll take pity on you. But only," she added, just for the heck of it," if you give me your _name_."

She paused. "The last bit's in _italics_, by the way. For _emphasis._"

He have her an amused half-smile, almost making her die then and there. "I suppose that's fair enough. I'm _Sergey_. _Sergey Borev_." He took great care to emphasize his name as well. "And what of yours, crumpet?"

She gasped dramatically, ignoring the slight pink tinge that had come up at his casual use of the term of endearment. "You mock me!" She accused, pointing a finger at him... well, accusingly. "But yeah, my name's Brenna. Brenna Carson."

He looked thoughtful. "Brenna. That's a pretty name."

Brenna found she liked the way her name seemed to just roll off his tongue.

Excuse her sappiness, please.

"My name's pretty too, you know," another voice said suddenly, and Brenna was rather surprised when a blonde face popped up right next to Sergey's.

Oh, sweet mother of Merlin.

It was Guy on the Nimbus 2.

The blonde one.

The _annoying_ one.

"Oh," Brenna snorted. "It's you."

He donned a mock-hurt expression. "You say it so disdainfully, it's like you don't even _want_ me here." He sniffed. "You don't, do you?"

"Aww," Brenna cooed. "Is the wee baby upset?"

The guy stuck out his tongue. "I'm not a baby, thank you very much."

"Really?" Brenna asked, before pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Toddler, then?"

Sergey, who was looking back and forth between the two of them like one of those Muggle _ping-pong_ matches (funny name), decided to cut in. "Brenna, meet my brother Andon. Andon, meet Brenna. I'm sure you two will get along _very_ well."

"Hm," Brenna furrowed her brows. "That _is _a pretty name."

Andon looked gleeful. "Hah!" he crowed into Sergey's face. "She called my name pretty! I am awesome!"

Sergey merely raised his eyebrows - clearly, he was the level headed one of the duo. "My name's pretty too. What do you think, Brenna?"

Said girl grinned. "Sure, yeah, it's definitely pretty. Prettier that Andon, even."

Andon pouted. "Nooo. Impossible. That can't be. My name's the prettiest. My name will always be the prettiest. Pft. _Brenna_. _Your _name's not pretty at all. Nyah. (sticks tongue out)."

Brenna hid a smile. "You look so much better with your tongue covering half of your face, you know. Just leave it out for the rest of the evening, alright?"

Sergey found this rather amusing.

Andon, however, did not.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, his tongue shooting back into his mouth. "I am quite handsome, I'll have you know."

"Yeah," Brenna snorted. "Like a wet puppy."

"OY!"

"Now, now, kiddies," Sergey chided, a grin stretching across his lips. "Let's not spoil a beautiful evening with an argument as pointless as this one."

A smile crept up Brenna's face. "True," she agreed. "So who are you supporting?"

Sergey's grin widened. "Bulgaria, of course. What else could it be, considering the fact that our cousin plays for the very team?"

Brenna was quite obviously curious. "Really? Who is it?"

Andon decided to interrupt. "Why, none other that dashing Viktor Krum, of course!"

Brenna's eyes widened. "..._no._ Not Bushy Brows!" She slapped her hand across her mouth almost instantly. "Sorry!"

Andon, however, just started grinning. "Bushy Brows... why didn't we think of that?"

Sergey nodded along thoughtfully. "We've done 'Caterpillars', and 'Brow Monster', 'Needs a Tweezer', and 'That One Guy with the Eyebrows'... but never Bushy Brows. Has a certain ring to it, doesn't it?"

"It does," Andon agreed. "We have to use that next time..."

Brenna's hand slipped from her face. "...You're not offended?"

Sergey grinned. "We don't get offended that easily, crumpet."

Brenna smiled. "That's a relief. But you're Bulgarian? You two don't have much of an accent, though. Why is that?"

Andon waved a dismissive hand. "Our Mum's British. We spend most of our holidays here in Britain, but we go to Durmstrang during the rest of the year. Dad's Bulgarian, you see. He wanted us to go to is alma mater." He paused for a breath. "Bushy Brows, (insert grin here) is our cousin from our Dad's side. His mother's our Dad's sister, you see."

"Oh," Brenna looked thoughtful for a moment, before her lips began to twitch up to form a wicked smirk. "So. Viktor Krum..."

Sergey adopted a suspicious expression. "_Yees," _he said slowly, and for one strange second, he reminded her of her Potions Master Professor Snape, and his quiet, coldly sarcastic personality.

_Creepy..._

A slight shudder went down her spine, and she hurriedly banished the frightening thought from her mind.

"You're not one of those fan girls, are you?" Andon questioned. "Because we don't like fan girls. They're annoying. Really annoying. Sort of stupid, really, with the screaming, and the fainting, and the _'Oh my Merlin it's Viktor Krum! Somebody kill me! Ahh!._.."

"Yeah," Sergey nodded. "You don't seem like one, but if you are..."

"No no," Brenna waved her hand. "I'm not one, but I can't say the same for a certain redhead..." she looked over to Ron - who was sitting beside Harry, who was sitting to Brenna's immediate left - here.

"OY, RON!"

His head snapped up in alarm - Harry and Hermione looked over as well. "WHAT?"

Brenna tsk'ed. "Now, now, there's no reason to scream," she chided. "But get this. Andon and Sergey, over here," she gestured toward the two grinning men peeping over her shoulder. "_aaarre..._ Drumroll, please."

"_Yes_? Get on with it, then," Ron said impatiently. Harry and Hermione looked on in curiosity and amusement.

"Oh, be patient, you ponce," she said. "Andon and Sergey, are... Bushy Brows' sodding _cousins._"

Silence.

Then:

"WHAT? Really? Are you close to him? Do you know him very well? Do you go to school with him? Can you get me his autograph? What's his favorite color? Is he-"

Brenna collapsed into a fit of giggles on Sergey's shoulder, who seemed to be trying to conceal his amusement, but wasn't really doing a very good job at it.

As for Andon, well, he'd fallen back into his chair and had begun roaring with laughter, occasional snorts slipping in between.

"AHAHA, your face, you should've seen your face!" Brenna managed to sputter before bursting into giggles again.

Harry placed a pacifying hand on her shoulder, though he seemed close to bursting himself. Hermione, who was hidden from Ron's view, was practically shaking with laughter.

Of course, Ron, however, wasn't all that amused. "Oh, _Merlin,_ Brenna, that was bloody hilarious, really." His face was something like this - (-_-)

Brenna nodded along, ignoring his sarcastic tone. "It really was. I KNEW you were gay!"

Cue indignant protests from Ron here.

Sergey patted her on the head after a moment, and she turned toward him, and it was only then that she realized that her head was still resting on his shoulder.

She was instantly in her own seat, flushing a deep shade of pink. "Oh yeah, I didn't introduce you two, did I? Guys, this is Sergey and Andon Borev. Sergey, Andon, this is Harry, Ron and Hermione."

(She avoided looking at the two Borev brothers, knowing that there would be an amused smile on one's face and a lewd smirk on the other's.)

Andon, of course, began to speak instantly. "'Ello, Harry, Ron and Hermione - can I call you Hermy-one? No? Okay then. I'm Andon, though you already know that, of course. It's a pleasure to meet you." He waved a hand at Sergey, accidentally slapping him on the face ("OW!") "And yeah, this is Sergey, my less handsome little brother."

"Yes, thank you for the _spectacular_ introduction, brother dear," Sergey said, massaging his cheek with a sour expression on his face, before smiling at the three amused fourteen-year-olds pleasantly. "But of course, it's nice to meet you three as well."

"Say," Harry began, leaning forward. "Weren't you the guy that-"

"Yes, yes, that was me," Sergey interrupted with a sheepish smile. "I really am sorry about that, Brenna."

Brenna grinned. "Aw, it's okay. Just split milk, yeah?"

Sergey, Andon and Ron looked confused (the former also looking admittedly adorable. At least according to Brenna, he was). "Wha-?"

She waved her hand again. "Muggle proverb. Doesn't matter."

And it was at this point when an pleasant looking middle aged woman began calling for the two Borev brothers. "Sergey! Andon! Come here for a moment, will you?"

Andon turned toward the brown haired woman and pouted. "Now?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, now. And don't pull the pout on me, young man. It stopped working ages ago."

Sergey sighed and got up. "Oh, come on, you git," he said to Andon, pulling his groaning brother up and looking back toward Brenna and the others. "Sorry. But we'll be back soon enough..."

She offered them a smile. "It's okay. Go on now, you sods. Your mum's calling for you." She paused. "She _is _your mum, right?"

Andon grinned. "Yeah. See you guys later."

Sergey beamed at her and then went away, lugging Andon along with him as he did so. With a sigh, Brenna turned toward the others, only to see them looking at her knowingly (not including Ron, of course. The boy was an oblivious idiot.)

"What?" she asked defensively. They just went on looking at her. "_What?_ Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

She was beginning to feel flustered, though for what reason, she didn't know. Her eyes began flitting about, avoiding her friends', and at one point, meeting familiar chocolate brown irises.

Her eyebrows furrowed when she noticed the troubled look on George's face, but when he noticed her watching, he hurriedly looked away. The furrow in her brow deepening, she let her eyes wander a bit more before they fell on a tiny creature sitting in the second from the last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, whose legs were so short that they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and it's face was hidden in it's hands.

Brenna had definitely seen the creature's species before, but this one seemed oddly familiar.

"Harry," she said, tugging on his shirt, but her eyes never leaving the creature. "Is that _Dobby?_"

He curiously turned in his seat, and when his eyes focused on the house elf, his mouth dropped open. "_Dobby?_"

Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Even though they'd heard a lot about Dobby from Harry, they'd never actually met him.

(Of course, the same couldn't be said for Brenna, since she visited the kitchens at school quite regularly and had frequently came across the adorable little house elf, who'd seemed to have taken a huge liking to her.)

The house elf looked up, and when it did, Brenna realized that it, or rather _she_, was NOT Dobby. Though her height and long, batlike ears resembled Dobby's a great deal, their faces and... well, _bone structures _were completely different.

This house elf had large chocolate brown eyes, and her nose was the shape of an enormous tomato. And of course, she had a more... feminine figure than Dobby.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" She said curiously between her fingers.

"Sorry," Harry said to her. "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" she squeaked, shielding her face as though blinded by light, though the Tob Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -" Her brown doe eyes widened comically when they came to rest upon Harry's lightning bolt scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

He sighed. "Yeah, I am."

"But Dobby talks about you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands and looking rather awestruck. "And a Ms. Carson, too," she added after a thought.

Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's heads swiveled over to Brenna, but she just shrugged. _School kitchens,_ she mouthed with a roll of her eyes. Sheesh.

"How is he?" Harry asked Winky. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," Winky said, shaking her head sadly. "ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."

Brenna sighed.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

Winky lowered her voice by half an octave and whispered," He is wanting pay for his work, sir."

"Pay?" Harry said blankly. "Well - why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked scandalised and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House elves are not paid, sir!" she said with a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting upto all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming of a house elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

Brenna shrugged again. "Well it's about time he had a bit of fun, right?"

"House elves is not supposed to have fun, Miss," Winky said firmly, looking at her from behind her hands. "House elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Miss" - she looked toward the edge of the Top Box and gulped. "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, Miss."

Brenna frowned. "But why would he send you up here then, Winky?" she asked kindly, resisting the urge to go up there and give the poor elf a big hug, she looked so forlorn. "He does know you're afraid of heights, right?"

"Master - Master wants me to save him a seat, Miss. He is very busy," Winky said to her, tilting her head to the empty seat beside her. "Winky is wishing to be back in Master's tent, Miss, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house elf."

She gave the metal railing of the Top Box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again.

Harry and Brenna turned back to the others.

"So that's a house elf?" Ron muttered. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," Harry said fervently.

Brenna rolled her eyes and shoved him lightly on the shoulder. "Shut up, you berk. Dobby's a lovable little thing."

Harry frowned. "How do you know Dobby, anyway?"

Brenna _looked _at him. "From the school kitchens, I told you," she replied, a silent 'duh' tacked on to the end of the sentence.

Ron sat up. "You know the route to the school kitchens? How come you never told us? Fred and George know, but would never..."

"You never asked," Brenna said matter-of-factly.

"You go to the kitchens often, Bren?" Harry asked curiously.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, of course, stupid. Where do you think I've been getting all those chocolate bars and cinnamon cupcakes and lemon tarts from all these years? Not to mention all that hot chocolate during winter..."

Harry flicked her lightly on the forehead in response, causing the girl to look at him indignantly. "Now, now, no need to call me names-"

"Enough of your cheek, mister!" she replied, before whacking him lightly on the head. "HEY!"

Ron sighed as though this had happened all too often (which it had), and went back to testing his Omniculars. He zoomed in on someone on the north end. "Wild," he exclaimed, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again, and again, and again..."

Brenna leaned over Harry and whacked Ron on the head as well. "That's disgusting, Ron. Do shut up."

"Would you stop abusing us?"

Brenna blinked. "Now why would I do that?"

Hermione, meanwhile, was determinedly ignoring their pointless conversation and flipping through her program eagerly.

"A display from the team mascots will precede the match," she read aloud.

"Oh, that's always worth watching," Mr. Weasley piped up from where he was sitting with Bill and Charlie. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box gradually filled on over the next fifteen minutes. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with important witches and wizards, and Percy was jumping on his feet so often that he was starting to look as though he was trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses _actually _fell of and shattered, a fact that amused Brenna and the twins very much. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing rather envious looks at her dark haired friend, whom Fudge had greeted like a son.

"Harry Potter, you know," he told the Bulgarian Minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold, and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "Harry Potter... oh, come on now, you know who he is! The boy who survived You-Know-Who - you must know..."

The Bulgarian Minister suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," Cornelius said wearily. "I'm no great shakes at languages... I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his elf saving him a seat - good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge in all the best places... Ah, and here's Lucius!"

Brenna spun around in her seat quickly and groaned.

Edging along the second row to three seats just a little farther away from Mr. Weasley, were none other than poncy Draco Malfoy and his equally poncy family.

"Ah, Fudge," Malfoy senior said, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge smiled, bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "Allow me to introduce Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister and- he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see, here. You know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

Brenna stiffened when she felt the entire atmosphere in the Top Box become tense.

"Good Lord, Arthur," Malfoy senior said softly, his eyes looking Mr. Weasley up and down. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Brenna felt her face alter into a rather unpleasant expression, and she leaned over to Harry, making a point to keep her eyes on the cold looking man as she did so. "Is it just me, or did Malfoy senior just bloody check Mr. Weasley out?"

Malfoy senior's cold grey eyes snapped over to her instantly, before narrowing into a moderately intimidating glare.

Brenna, unfazed, just raised a dark eyebrow at the man in response.

Fudge, who wasn't paying much attention to the conversation, decided to butt in. "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"Oh, how - how nice," Mr. Weasley said with a strained smile.

Malfoy senior's eyes then shifted from Brenna to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back. Brenna scowled. She knew what was going on in the man's sick head right now.

But at least he wouldn't dare say anything.

Not in front of the bloody Minister of Magic, he wouldn't.

So he just nodded sneeringly at Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Brenna, Harry, Ron and Hermione one contemptuous look (that was eagerly returned, of course), before settling himself between his mother and father.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as the four of them turned to face the field again.

"Stupid, pureblooded bigots," Brenna agreed.

And it was then that they were graced, once again, with the presence of Sergey and Andon Borev.

"Ello, Brenna, Harry, Ron, Hermione," Andon greeted as the two of them fell into their seats. "What did we miss?"

Brenna snorted. "Oh, you have nooo idea."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**:

Well, hello. (small voice)

**I blame writer's block.**

Alright, I _know_ I said I would update every week, I swear I haven't forgotten! But for the past two weeks, everytime I sit in front of my screen and open Word up, all I see is BLANK.

THIS, I wrote around three A.M. last night, when I finally managed to get an idea of how I wanted to _begin_ with the chapter after this having this weird dream involving Voldemort and my yellow teddy bear.

..._don't ask._

Just.. _don't._

ANYWAY.

I PROMISE I will update sooner this time - I already have an idea of how I'm going to portray the actual _match_ - I was going to incorporate it into this chapter, but it turned out to be too long. It's five hundred words, as it is.

SO.

All in all: pleasedonteatme.

Now, moving on to the reviews, alerts, etc. etc. etc.

TO PiecesOfCait, kankuroizawesome and embermoonlight: THANK YOU for adding Carson Chronicles to your alerts list. Sorry you didn't get one until now, though.

TO Ladyktbaby and PiecesOfCait again, thanks for adding the story to your Favorites list. I REAAALLLY appreciate it. :) :P

AND lastly, to (oh shit, it's a long list - I LOVE YOU!) CreativeKazi, BadaBing, SmilesForAll, Willow, Cheesface, EbonyRey, iluvpadfoot, AcidPopsAndSugarQuills (boy, that's a long name), angel2u, and 3 fries short of a happy meal: like I said before, I LOVE YOU! :D :P

You don't know how happy I am with the fact that I actually got TEN reviews for the last chapter.

I'm ecstatic, really.

Jumping-on-the-bed ecstatic.

I'd be happy if I got the same number (and maybe even more) for this chapter as well. (hint hint)

:D

PLEASE REVIEW!

-Plimpy Soup _(originally icemice0123)._


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"SO," Andon said brightly (and not so smartly). "I assume you're supporting Bulgaria, then?"

Sergey sighed.

Ron sputtered.

Harry laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

And Brenna?

Brenna just flipped over in her seat and then proceeded to _look _at Andon, her left eye beginning to twitch _just_ a little weirdly.

So you know, just the usual.

"Heh," Andon smiled."I assume not then?" (cue face-palm from Sergey here, please)

Brenna raised an eyebrow. "You know what they say about people who assume, don't you Andon?"

Said guy looked confused. "No. No I don't. I assume you're going to tell me, though?"

..._Merlin's pants._

"Why? Why must you suck the fun out of every single movie line in the universe?

Harry's eyebrows furrowed at this. "It's from a movie? I didn't know that.."

Brenna shrugged. "Well yeah, at least I think it is..maybe it's not. Maybe it's just an old saying. But what I really wonder about though, is how that one, 'raining cats and dogs' came about..." she trailed off thoughtfully.

Andon, for some unknown reason, looked even more confused now. "About what you said before...what's a bovie?"

And here come the groans from the Muggle experts...Muggle-ogists. (?)

Brenna waved her hand. "Never mind."

"_I_ know about mobies!" Somebody exclaimed from behind her, and Brenna spun in her seat again to see, with not so much surprise as dread, Ludo Bagman standing there, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Harry, Ron and Hermione began chuckling quietly, making Brenna shoot them a glare - Sergey and Andon just looked confused.

"Does your mother like mobies, Brenna? You think she'd say yes if I asked her to one? I mean, she did decline the first five offers, yes, but she _did _have valid excuses for each of them... She'd surely accept this time though, wouldn't she?"

...

And Brenna could practically _feel_ the realization dawning on the two brothers' faces.

There was a silent snicker to her right, which she determinedly ignored (save for the discrete - but painful - nudge she gave in that direction. "Ouch!")

"Why, hello, Mr. Bagman," Brenna greeted with a pleasant (FAKE) smile. "Fancy seeing you again! And about your question regarding my mother - erm, I apologize, but unfortunately, she's not going to be home over the next few weeks, you see...um, my mother's aunt's...son-in-law's...sister has apparently gone into a...shock induced coma..? Something about seeing her grandmother naked in the shower... or um, something equally as drastic? Well, she's gone to erm, BATH! Yes, I'm pretty sure it's Bath...to um, see to her recovery so...uh. She won't _be_ here. But have no fear! She WILL be back by the start of the school year, you know...Perhaps you could ask her _then_...?"

The five people sitting beside her appeared to be in silent hysterics.

And, unless she was mistaken, she could also see the _other_ Weasleys laughing and smiling over her fabricated excuse as well...?

Yes, yes they were. Fred, George and Ginny were _actually_ holding onto the railing to stop themselves from falling over laughing.

Huh.

It wasn't _that_ unbelievable, was it?

No, no it wasn't.

At least, Bagman appeared to be buying it for all it was worth, considering the stricken expression on his face...

"Oh, how terrible!" he cried, wiping a...was that a tear?

Oh, in the name of...

IT WAS.

...he was bloody _crying._

What. A. Wuss.

"I do hope she'll be okay, now" He...get this, _sniffled._ Merlin's beard.

Was he _really _that pathetic?

Yes. Yes he was.

"I'm sure she will," Brenna reassured with what she hoped was a pained smile. "It's really only shock induced, so I'm pretty sure she'll recover soon enough...DON'T you have a Quidditch match to commence, by the way?"

Bagman appeared to stir from his apparent sorrow. "Oh, yes, I forgot about that! I'll be going now," he offered her a watery smile and walked over to the edge of the Top Box. "Do convey my wishes to your mother's aunt's...er, relation! And tell her I'm anxious to see her!"

Oh, holy mother of Merlin.

Brenna collapsed into her seat with a large sigh.

Andon exploded.

And oh hey, so did Sergey.

Not to mention Harry, Ron, Hermione_,_ George, Fred, Ginny, _Mr. Weasley..._pretty much everyone in the Top Box, really.

"WAS he for real?" Andon asked, absolutely _giggling_ with delight.

"Yes, Andon, sadly he was," Hermione answered for Brenna as she flipped through her program, a large grin on her face. "I've never seen _anything_ like it..."

"Oh, come on, Hermoine," Brenna grinned at her. "Admit it. He creeps you out, doesn't he?"

"How could he _not _creep somebody out?" Sergey questioned incredulously. "He gives me the heebie-jeebies..."

Ron sat up, still snickering like a loon. "I know right! What are the heebie-jeebies?"

Harry waved his hand (Brenna swore it was becoming a fad) and managed to squeeze in a few words between his snorts: "Doesn't matter, Ron."

Next moment, Ludo Bagman had whipped out his wand and cast the _Sonorous_ charm at his throat.

Oh.

Ew.

That sounded sort of wrong.

The whipping thing...

...ANYWAY.

"Ladies and gentlemen, WELCOME! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped as Brenna hurriedly pulled out her Omniculars from her pocket and placed it on her lap. The huge blackboard opposite them was now showing BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

Sergey leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Bet you a Galleon Bulgaria wins."

Brenna grinned and patted his cheek. "You're on, Borev."

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce - the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the auditorium, which was a solid wall of scarlet, roared in approval.

"Oh, I wonder what they've brought," Mr. Weasley was saying as he leaned forward in his seat.

Brenna leaned forward as well, and was shocked when she identified the women that was now gliding out onto the field.

"THEY'RE SODDING VEELA!"

And then suddenly, all hell was breaking loose.

Well, at least for the women it was.

'Cuz all the _men_ were now officially out of their minds.

For example: Harry and Ron were right in the middle of jumping out of the Box, which was, mind you, over a _hundred _feet above the ground.

As for Fred and George, they were trying to slide down the bloody railings to get a closer look at the... erm, creatures.

And Sergey and Andon? They were actually looking like were contemplating diving from the Top Box and into the crowds to get to the bloody Veela.

Brenna sighed as she got up and wordlessly took hold of each of the Borev's collars and pulled them back into their seats, ignoring their loud protests.

At least Bill, Charlie and Mr. Weasley had been smart enough to plug their ears before they were affected as well.

Merlin knows how three girls would've been able to control ALL of them.

And then the music stopped.

Following which the screaming started, of course.

The men wanted their Veela back.

What else?

Out of the corner of her eye, Brenna saw Ron absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Smiling slightly, she leaned over and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that," she said with a grin. "I'm pretty sure the Irish will be putting on a show that'll be just as impressive as this one, if not more."

"Huh?" was his dumb reply.

Hermione tsk'd. "Oh, honestly!" she exclaimed as she reached up and pulled both Harry and Ron back into their seats.

"And now, kindly put your wands in the air - for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

...Well Brenna was right.

The Irish Team's display was absolutely amazing.

Because they had _Leprechauns_.

And Leprechauns pwn all. \m/

"Awesome," Brenna breathed as a large, shimmering shamrock comprised of tiny bearded men carrying minute lamps of gold or green began floating over the stands and large, cookie-sized gold coins began to shower from it.

"It _is _rather impressive," Andon said grudgingly. Brenna shot him a grin. "I know, right?"

The shamrock dissolved and the Leprechauns drifted down onto the field opposite from the Veela, some even sticking their tongues out at them as they went.

"And now, kindly welcome, the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

Cue the Bulgarian crowd going crazy.

"Ivanova"

Cue the crowd going even _more_ crazy.

"Zograf! Levsky! Volchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaand, KRUM!"

Cue the crowd going bloody _ballistic._

Sergey shifted a little bit, causing Brenna to look at him questioningly. "This is a little creepy," he informed her with a grimace. She grinned.

"Oh bloody hell, THAT'S HIM! THAT'S HIM!" Ron began screaming.

Now Brenna, being Brenna, couldn't resist.

So with a wide smile, she leaned over Harry, punched Ron on the shoulder, and then, when he'd properly focused on her with impatient eyes, she screamed "OH, LOOKIE RON! IT'S YOUR BOYFRIEND!"

Well, thank goodness there wasn't any awkward moment like in those movies where the entire stadium goes quiet and turns to stare at the person who would decide to scream something as weird as that during a bloody Quidditch match - the person being _her._

Good Godric, that would've been embarrassing.

But anyway:

"Ow, Brenna, you don't need to scream into my ear-"

"OH BLOODY HELL, BRENNA! I TOLD YOU HE'S NOT MY-"

"OH, SHUT UP RON, WE CAN'T HEAR THE COMMENTARY OVER YOUR BLOODY EXCUSES!"

...that last one was Ginny, by the way. Just in case you were wondering.

"Presenting," Bagman yelled. "the Irish National Quidditch Team, Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Moran! Mullet! Quigley! Aaaand - LYNCH!"

The Irish team bolted into the field doing a number of complex looking loops and tricks, much to the green block's delight.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mustafa!"

...Hassan Mustafa was a funny-looking man.

He was a small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache that would've reduced Harry's walrus of an uncle to tears, and wearing pure gold to match the stadium. A silver whistle was protruding from somewhere under his grand mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his _Firebolt_ under the other.

..Oh, and he also waddled like a penguin.

He looked like a...like a... well he also _looked_ like a penguin.

A golden penguin.

Brenna smirked. Impressive.

Well anyway, he mounted his broomstick, kicked open the crate, gave a sharp blast on his whistle, and then shot into the air along with the Quaffle, the Snitch and the Bludgers.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

"Incredible," Harry breathed.

Brenna knew what he meant - the speed of the Chasers was amazing. They were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. They could hardly keep up.

"Troy! Mullet! Moran! Back to Troy! And - TROY SCORES!" Brenna immediately started screaming and bouncing around in her seat, throwing her hands up in the air with enthusiasm, but not before shooting a smug look at the Bulgarians next to her, who looked just a tad bit disappointed.

"What?" she heard Harry cry from her left. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

She paused mid-bounce. "Harry, if you're not going to watch the game at normal speed, you're going to miss things!"

"And it's Levski! Ivanova! Dimitrov! Back to Ivanova! Levski! Ivanova - and IVANOVA SCORES, the first goal to Bulgaria!"

Brenna booed.

Andon cheered.

Sergey gave her such a complacent look that she almost threw her Omniculars at him to knock it off his face.

And then, to top it all off, the Veela started dancing.

"FINGERS IN YOUR EARS!" Mr. Weasley bellowed.

Damn blonde harpies.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I'll say!"

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the Bushy Brows and Lynch plummeted through the air.

"But -" Brenna moved her Omniculars ahead. "But there's no Snitch in sight!"

"They're going to crash!" Hermione screamed.

..well she was half-right.

'Cuz at the very last second, Bushy Brows had pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, on the other hand, was not so lucky.

"FOOOL!" Brenna cried as Sergey and Andon began snickering hysterically. "HE WAS FEINTING, YOU SOD! IT WAS THE SODDING WRONSKI FEINT!"

"It's time out as trained mediwizards run out to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed," Charlie was reassuring Ginny, who was leaning over the railing, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course..."

Lynch got up at last, to loud applause from the green part of the stadium. His revival seemed to have given the Irish a new zeal, 'cuz when the Penguin blew his whistle, they moved with more skill and precision than ever.

Much to the Bulgarians' dismay.

And fifteen minutes later, Ireland was leading one hundred points to ten.

...Of course, this also meant that the game was getting dirtier. Not as dirty as the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin ones, yes, but still pretty close.

"And Mustafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows! And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

"YOU IDIOT!" YOU ZTUPID IDIOT!" Andon was yelling his head off and shaking his fist almost comically.

Brenna grinned. It seemed that his accent came out when he was annoyed.

Or exasperated.

Anyway, the leprechauns, who had risen angrily like a swarm of glittering hornets, now darted together to form the words HA HA HA. The Veela, who looked outraged, began dancing almost instantly.

And then someone started screaming 'look at the referee! look at the referee!"

Brenna looked at the referee.

And promptly burst out laughing.

Because the Penguin had landed right in front of the harpies, and had begun to flex his muscles and smooth down his mustache rather (cough) excitedly.

"Now we can't have that!" Bagman roared. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing through the field, fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mustafa hard in the shins. He seemed to come to himself, and through the Omniculars, Brenna saw that he looked really embarrassed and had started shouting at the Veela, who had stopped dancing and looked mutinous.

"What's he doing?" Brenna muttered and zoomed in on him.

"And unless I'm mistaken, Mustafa is actually trying to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots!" Bagman said. "Now there's something that's never happened before. Oh, this could turn nasty..."

It did, much to Brenna's delight.

The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of the Penguin and began agruing furiously with him, gesturing toward the Leprechauns, who were now forming the words HEE HEE HEE.

The Penguin wasn't impressed.

And then, when he ordered them to get back into the air and they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"TWO PENALTIES FOR IRELAND!" Bagman roared. "And Volvov and Vulchanov had better get back onto their brooms - yes, there they go - and Troy takes the Quaffle.

And the game reached a whole new level of ferocity and gore - the Beaters especially, who were acting without mercy. The Bulgarians in particular didn't seem to care whether they hit Bludger or human as they swung their bats violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"FOUL!" The Irish screamed.

"Foul!" Bagman agreed. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The Leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, formed a giant hand.

And then they flipped the Veela off, much to Brenna's amusement.

At this, the Veela lost control. But instead of dancing, they turned into their harpy form and had begun to toss what looked like balls of fire at the Leprechauns.

The guys around her shuddered simultaneously.

"And that, boys," Mr. Weasley yelled over the applause. "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

Ministry wizards were flooding into the field to separate the harpies and the Leprechauns, but Brenna ignored them, choosing instead to focus on the battle above.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

Cue screams from the Irish.

But their cheers were barely heard over the shrieks of the harpies, the blasts now coming from the Ministry wizards' wands, and the furious screeches of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Ivanova - Dimitrov - oh, Merlin!"

Brenna winced.

The Irish Beater Quigley had swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Bushy Brows, who didn't duck quickly enough.

It hit him smack in the face.

Giving him a wonky nose.

Ouch.

Eh. Whatever. This was good for Ireland. Their best player now had a broken nose... awesome.

But Ron, predictably, was indignant. "Time out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him-"

Brenna groaned. "Merlin, Ron, he's in Bulgaria! I get that you like him, but this is ridi-"

Harry interrupted her. "LOOK AT LYNCH!"

Brenna looked at Lynch.

He'd gone into a (gasp) _dive_.

Excited, she shot out of her seat and leaned over the railing. "GO LYNCH!"

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry was yelling. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

But then Krum saw what was happening.

...the loser.

He zoomed after the Irish seeker, flecks of blood flying through the air after him - how he could see where he was going, with all that blood obstructing his vision, Brenna didn't know - but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled to the ground again.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione screamed - dejà vu?

"THEY ARE NOT!" Ron roared.

"Lynch is!" Harry yelled.

"NOT AGAIN! LYNCH, YOU SODDING IDIOT, IF YOU CRASH AGAIN-" Brenna started ranting.

Lynch crashed.

And was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry hags.

"WHERE'S THE SNITCH?" Charlie shouted over the noise.

And as if on cue, Krum raised his hand, showing off the fluttering golden ball he'd caught just a moment ago.

"NOOOO," Brenna cried dramatically.

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" Harry yelled.

And then Andon got up and started dancing.

"YES! GO KRUMMY BOY! GO KRUMMY BOY!" Andon chanted, doing this weird jig - much to everybody's amusement.

Sergey looked horrified. "Andon - Andon, get back in your seat. No, don't do that - you're embarrassing us. Andon - ANDON!"

"Bloody Lynch, what'd he have to go and crash for?" Brenna mumbled. "Sodding loser's lost it for the-" and then she saw the scoreboard.

BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170.

Her jaw dropped.

And then she started dancing too. "GO IRELAND! GO IRELAND! HAH, THE IRISH OWN YOUR FACES, YOU _LOSERS_! OH, AND SERGEY? YOU OWE ME _A GALLEON_!"

"Ireland - wins!" Bagman said sounding rather surprised - he and everybody else in the stadium...

"KRUM GET'S THE SNITCH, BUT IRELAND WINS - good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed angrily.

"Because he's stupid?" Brenna offered. She sneaked a peek at the Borevs, who looked rather dejected. "No offense to your cousin, though."

Sergey waved his hand (look at that!). "None taken, crumpet," he reassured, causing Brenna to flush _just _a little.

"-because he knew they were never going to catch up," Harry was saying meanwhile. "The Irish Chasers were too good ("too right!" Brenna exclaimed) He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all..."

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling harpies and Leprechauns to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess..."

"That's Vicky boy for you," Andon sighed. "Bravery and valor and all that Hippogrif dung-" he stopped and looked at Hermione slyly. "Do you want me to set you up with him?"

Hermione blushed. "No thanks, I'm quite all right."

Andon shrugged. "Suit yourself."

And then, from behind them: "Vell, ve fought valiantly."

Brenna turned around - it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

Fudge looked outraged. "You can speak English! (Brenna snickered) And you've been letting me mime all day!"

"Veil, it vos very funny," Mr. Obalonkie - Obielonsk? shrugged.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!"

They were suddenly dazzled by a white light as the Top Box was magically illuminated for everybody to see. Squinting toward the entrance, Brenna saw two panting wizards carrying an enormous golden cup into the tiny room, which they handed to Fudgie-boy, who still looked a little angry at being played.

"And let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs came the seven defeated players, the crowd below applauding appreciatively. They came one by one, with Bagman calling out each of their names as they shook hands with Mr. Obalonsky and then Fudgie-boy. Bushy Brows was last in line, and he looked a real mess, with two black eyes to match a beautiful bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch, and he seemed much less coordinated on the ground - almost like a duck. But when his name was announced, the entire stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

At one moment, he even sneaked a peek at his cousins, one of which was mouthing soundless curses at him, while the other was giving him apologetic smiles on account of his brother.

You can figure out which one was which.

But what seemed to interest Brenna the most, was the fact that as his eyes drifted over them and back to his team mates, they lingered a little bit on Hermione, who was blissfully unaware of what was going on.

Brenna grinned.

_Interesting_.

And then the Irish team came. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly - the second crash seemed to have dazed him a bit, and his eyes looked weirdly unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd thundered with approval. Brenna's throat was hoarse with screaming.

At last, when the Irish team had left the Box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly's, still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand to his throat and muttered '_Quietus'._

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said to nobody. "a really unexpected twist, that. Shame it couldn't have lasted longer - ah, yes, yes, I owe you - how much?"

Because Fred and George had just jumped in front of Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

"Lucky sods," Brenna muttered.

...

But oh, _wait _a _minute_.

Bagman.

Baggieman?

Oh, sweet bliss.

_Boogieman_.

Brenna smirked. _Awesome_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

SO. Hello there. (waves)

I updated on time this time, (grins broadly). It feels rather good.

Especially for a lazy old lump of lard like me.

ANYWAY.

Some of you must have noticed - my, oh my, Brenna's bouncier than usual!

Yeah well, there's a reason for that.

I'm on a sugar high at the moment, you see. Sort of piled on the M and M's and the Skittles and the Gummy Bears and the Cola...

And no amount of work will make Brenna... well, less bouncy.

So yeah, I decided to upload it as it was.

I still liked it though - I hope you do too! :) :D

NOW. To SimplyMarvy, EllaUnlimited, Vinegar 'n' Honey and xXxD3ADxXx: THANKS for adding the story to your alerts - I really _do_ appreciate it. EllaUnlimited - you are awesome because you favorited it as well. \m/

AND TO MY REVIEWERS - MuggleBorn-Jedi-Ninja, Vinegar 'n' Honey, SmilesForAll, GriffinGyrl, EvilMonkeyBabyD, CreativeKazi, EbonyRey, JennyLupin, AcidPopsAndSugarQuills, and UnperfectButLovingIt - I LOVE YOU GUYS! Ten reviews again! You make me all gooey inside!

Perhaps... for this one as well? (puppy-dog eyes)

I'd give you a virtual cookie!

Oh no, I'd give you one of Brenna's mum's famous sizzling sugar muffins.

You can't resist _that!_

:P

Eh. Whatever.

...goodbye for now! (toothy grin)

With love,

-Plimpy Soup. (_originally icemice0123)_


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Brenna heard Mr. Weasley say as they made their way toward the exit, which made her grin. She fell in step with Harry, Ron and Hermione, and they were soon caught up in the crowds of people flooding out of the stadium and back to the camp sites.

The two Borev brothers had regretfully said their goodbyes before joining their family by the side, but Sergey's parting comment had confused Brenna _just_ a little bit.

Y_ou'll see us soon enough, I suppose__._

What the heck had he meant by that?

When she'd asked, he'd seemed a bit surprised. "You don't know?" he had questioned very incredulously.

Annoyed, she'd replied, "Know _what,_ exactly?"

Her only reply was a shite-eating grin. She'd poked him a million times, but he hadn't even _tried_ to explain himself. Even after she'd pulled out the big guns – _puppy-dog eyes._

Which had never let her down before. _Ever._

So, in the end, all she could do was sigh.

And pout.

And wallow.

And sigh a little more.

And after even _that_ had met an epic failure, she finally came to the conclusion that she just wouldn't win – she would have to actually sit back and _wait_ for the news to break, just like all the other idiots of the wizarding world.

How dreadfully _boring._

Yech.

When they'd finally reached their campsite, nobody had felt like sleeping at all, so Mr. Weasley decided that one last cup of hot cocoa was acceptable before they all turned in. Soon enough, they were all sitting around the tiny table in the men's tent, engaging in pleasant conversation about the unexpected outcome of the match.

Well, most of them were. Others were being teased rather ruthlessly.

"So," Ginny said with a sly grin as she took a sip of her cocoa. "_Sergey_, huh?" (Note: 'Sergey' was said rather suggestively, in this case. Remarkable use of italics, this one - Brenna was very proud.)

Said girl's cheeks went a really bright shade of pink (but she did try to ignore it). "What about Sergey?"

Ginny hit her lightly on the arm. "Don't give me that! You like him, don't you?" she waved her hand dismissively when Brenna opened her mouth to deny it. "It's obvious. You two were flirting like hell all throughout the match."

Brenna looked indignant. "We were _not!"_ The redhead raised a skeptical eyebrow. "We _weren't_!"

"No, you were," Hermione corrected as she plopped herself onto the chair next to hers, shooting the blushing girl a mischievous smile. "It was actually quite adorable."

"We were _not _flirting," Brenna said firmly. "We were simply poking fun at each other and enjoying the match like everybody else. Our nonexistent relationship is completely platonic."

"Right," Ginny snorted. "Platonic."

"It's true!"

"Brenna," Hermione sighed. "You like each other. Don't bother denying it. We know you too well. This is just like that time back in second year when you had that school-girl crush on Wayne Hopkins. Only, it's a lot less school-girlish than that."

"But-"

"No."

"But-!"

"_No."_

Oh well. There are appropriate times for denial.

"Okay fine," Brenna huffed. "Maybe I-"

"Woah woah woah, wait a minute!" Somebody said from across them. The three girls looked up to see Ron staring at them rather idiotically. "You liked _Wayne Hopkins_? That idiot from _Hufflepuff_? How come we didn't know about that?" (In the background, going unnoticed by anyone participating in the ongoing conversation, George Weasley stiffened just a little bit. This specific reaction was picked up on only by his very perceptive twin brother, one ginger-headed Fred Weasley, who immediately broke into a teasing grin.)

Anyhoo.

"Idiot?" Brenna protested. "Hey kettle, this is pot. How about telling us the secret to your pretty blackness?" Hermione and Harry burst into quiet snickers. Ginny and Ron, on the other hand, just looked clueless. (see – Muggle proverb. Reaction – rather obvious)

"Ron," Harry said after he calmed. "They're girls. And it's not something that would come up in normal conversation. With us, at least."

Ron looked mollified (but still a little clueless). "Alright then. What'd you think about that unfair cobbing anyway?"

And so the banter continued. It was only when Ginny fell asleep right on Brenna's shoulder and spilled her hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley put a stop to the conversation and insisted that everybody went to bed. Brenna and Hermione supported a sleepy Ginny between them as they retired to their tent, saying good-night to everybody as they went. It was a very satisfied Brenna that snuggled into her bed that evening…

…and it was a very pleasant dream involving coffee, jelly beans and a guy that looked suspiciously like Sergey that was interrupted when a very sleepy Brenna was shaken awake.

"Brenna," a voice hissed quietly – impatiently.

"Unh."

"_Brenna. _Wake up, damnit. Something's wrong."

Bill. It was Bill's voice.

"...get that ugly mug away from my face."

"What? Wait – Brenna! Wake up! Look, big problem – bacon? No. Didn't Ron say you were scared of clowns? CLOWN, Brenna. Big, scary clown with a big, scary nose." Shake, shake. "Wake UP!"

"Oh, leave off. There's a much simpler solution to this."

Wait.

'Miney?

No. Evil. Frizzy haired she-devil. No. Wake up, self. Wake up, wake u-!

FFFFFT.

Her eyes snapped open as a jet of ice cold water hit her face and she immediately leaped out of her bed, hair wild and wand waving. "Gah!"

Hermione shot Bill a grimace, ignoring the amused Ginny in the background. "_Never_ give her anything caffeine-related before bed. Ever."

He looked disgruntled. "Oh-"

BLAM.

"Shit, I forgot. This isn't the right time or place. We need to get out of here, come on!" And with that, the still waking Brenna Carson was unceremoniously dragged out of the tent in all her naked glory (just kidding), during the process of which she just barely managed to grab onto her jacket and shoes.

Outside was... a sight to see.

By the light of the few fires that were still crackling away, she could see people running into the woods - running away from something she couldn't quite see. All around her, she could hear yells, screams, shouts of fear – _get out of here fast, it's them! Into the woods, they've got the Muggles. GO! RUN! NOW!_

It was absolute chaos, and all she could do was blink.

In the midst of the rush, she could see that little something coming across the fields towards them, and she could hear drunken yells and jeers and shouts of encouragement, and then – a green light illuminated the fields for one split second...

...and she was dragged away.

But not before she caught a glimpse of what she was staring towards – in that one flash of green she saw a crowd of wizards, close together, with their wands pointed upwards. Their faces were covered with fearsome skeleton masks and their heads were hooded. They were wearing black cloaks, and above them floated the family of muggles that owned the land, their bodies folding into each other and their faces contorted in anguish. With a start, she realized she was witnessing the torture of that one old man who had called her lil' lassie – the man with the suspicious frown and the flyaway hair.

Mr. Roberts.

_Merlin help us._

"Brenna, would you please come on?"

A gasp left her lungs as she stumbled along the grassed ground, her eyes focusing on the face of her insistent dragger (?) – George Weasley.

"What – George?" She managed as she finally got her legs to cooperate. "Where's Hermione? And Ginny-"

"Don't worry about them now," he grunted, his hand clenching over hers almost painfully as they were jerked about by the frantic crowd. "They're already in the woods. Bill, Charlie, Percy and Dad are helping the Aurors. We need to _go._"

"They're Death Eaters," she mumbled, staring back at the laughing crowd of cloaked wizards. "_Death Eaters. _But how?"

"I don't know, Bren," he replied, eyebrows drawing together in – irritation? No, worry. "Look, Fred's by that tree. Let's go."

And sure enough, by the light of the moon, she could barely make out the distinct red color of Fred Weasley's hair – he was waving his hands at them very obviously, and his face was streaked with dirt. Next to him, she could just about recognize the terrified form of one Ginny Weasley. "COME ON!"

They fought their way through the crowd that was surging forward. Brenna was shoved about Merlin knows how many times, and for one frightening moment, she thought she'd lost hold of George's hand, but she'd managed to grip on, and they finally came to a stop in front of his waiting twin.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione are missing," Fred said as soon as they'd joined them. George had (rather unfortunately, she was startled to discover) let go of her hand, and Ginny had instantly taken his place, her dainty fingers clasping onto her Quidditch-worn ones.

"What do you mean, _missing?_" Brenna demanded, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Missing, as in we can't find them," Fred replied hurriedly as they were sucked into the crowd once again. "They got separated from us a while ago. Merlin, I can't believe this is happening!"

And she couldn't either.

Her hand tightening over Ginny's, she gulped in another painful breath and they tried to fight their way through the sea of panic and hysteria.

A few minutes later, the crowd began to thin out. Instantly, her wand was out and a whispered _Lumos_ was heard. A gentle white glow emerged from the tip of her wand and, with a quick inhale to steady herself, she raised it to observe her companions' faces. "We need to get out of this stampede, _now_. To the left, come on."

And they turned to the left, and walked and walked for Merlin knows how long before Brenna stopped, deciding they had covered enough distance to be considered safe.

"We should head up a tree," Ginny murmured, throwing an unsure glance towards the still slightly audible crowd. "Just to be safe."

Fred and George sighed. "Yeah. We should."

Brenna eyed the trees that were surrounding them, before fixing her gaze onto one particularly sturdy looking oak. "That one should hold all of us. Up and at 'em, come on."

And soon, they were safely nestled within the branches of the old oak tree, small traces of moonlight seeping through the leaves and giving them enough light to see each other with a little clarity.

It was only a few seconds after this period of assured safety that Brenna was comfortable enough to begin with her panic attack. "What the _fuck_?"

The three Weasleys just snorted and said simultaneously – "I know."

"Fuck fuck fuckity fuck _fuck!_" Brenna continued to screech, not caring about the fact that had this conversation occurred in the intimidating presence of one angry Mrs. Weasley, her mouth would have been _Scourgified_ a hundred thousand times… and a few hundred more. (That is _not_ the kind of language that befits a proper lady! _Scourgify!_ There are _children _[Ginny] present!)

"Death Eaters," she stated incredulously, before stopping to think logically and then casting a quick _Muffliato _to block out their voices. "_Death Eaters!"_

"At the Quidditch World Cup," Ginny added as she burrowed her way into Fred's arms and sniffled slightly. "Which is supposed to have maximum security."

"Merlin, I am so glad Jakey didn't come!" Brenna moaned, dropping her face into her grimy hands. An arm went around her shoulders and she wordlessly leaned into George's chest for some comfort.

"What do you think they were here for?" he asked as he looked down into the shadows with an ugly scowl. "You-Know-Who couldn't possibly be -"

"Nah," Fred refuted, his brown eyes glinting dangerously. "This is more of a statement, I'd say. Trying to get people to remember _the glory days_." The last three words were spat out with so much venom that Brenna couldn't help but be surprised – she hadn't thought they were capable of being so nasty.

"Reliving old memories?" Brenna offered with a disgusted expression on her face. "Eh, mates, it's been a long while, me thinks. Time to break out the masks and the cloaks, have a little bit of fun, I say!"

Ginny emitted a little 'eugh'. Fred and George scowled even more. A few more curses left their potty (not that she had room to say) mouths. "Bloody good-for-nothing _bastards."_

Brenna sighed bitterly, moving from her position in George's arms to lean back and rest her head against the rough bark of the old oak tree. George made an unidentifiable sound, but she didn't have the patience or energy to figure out what it meant. "What a way to end our summer. A story to tell the babies, I tell you."

"A night to never forget," George added darkly, and decided to follow her example and lean back as well. "A night to haunt us for the rest of our lives."

* * *

><p>Around an hour had passed before the shouts of the riot they had left behind had faded completely to leave them with only the comfort of the generic moonlit night to hear. "We should go back," Fred decided, staring back towards the campsites. A sleeping Ginny mumbled nonsensically from her place on his lap. "The rest don't know where we're at."<p>

"You think it's safe to return?" Brenna questioned, rubbing her eyes with a tired yawn. "Not too soon?"

George shot her a concerned look before turning his gaze in the same direction of his twin's. "I reckon it's okay," he mumbled, narrowing his eyes slightly and then shaking his head. He turned back towards her and frowned. "You alright?"

"Hm?" Brenna blinked a few times and then turned her head to offer him a tiny smile. "Yeah. Just crazy tired. Don't worry, George." She yawned again and then jumped out of the tree, wand in hand. "Come on."

Fred gently shook his sister awake as George jumped to join her. It took a few moments for Ginny to fully regain her senses, but soon, maybe around twenty minutes later, they found themselves walking a familiar route – the only difference was that it was now mostly empty. Only a few witches and wizards were in sight.

There was one person, however, that they immediately recognized.

"Fred? George?" The stocky redhead shot out of his chair and speed-walked towards the bedraggled group. "Gin? Brenna? That you?"

"Char'ee," Ginny murmured tiredly as she let go of Brenna and held out her arms. Charlie Weasley swept his little sister into his strong arms and buried his face into her messy hair. A barely audible sniff emerged from somewhere in the duo – the other three pretended not to notice. "Thank Merlin you guys are safe. Dad's going absolutely spare."

Brenna looked around at the deserted region and frowned. "Where is everybody else?"

"Most people left as soon as they finished packing their stuff – that was around half an hour ago, I reckon." Charlie gave his sister one last hug and then lifted her up bridal style. Ginny made another noise and then buried her face into his neck. Slowly, they began to make their way back towards the campsite. "Only people left are the Aurors and the Ministry officials. And a few others."

Fred and George perked up.

"The Death Eaters –"

"They caught them?"

"First time they'd have –"

"Ever done anything right, I'd say."

"No." Charlie cut in bluntly, deciding to end it before they got too excited. "They got away."

The twins made incredulous noises. Brenna balked. "Got away! How in the name of Merlin's sweaty stockings did they get away?"

"Aurors closed in too late," Charlie informed them with a sigh. Fred and George began to scowl. "By the time they brought the Muggles down safely, those sick bastards were long gone. Merlin, these people are stupid."

Brenna bit her lip. "How are the rest doing? Harry, Ron and Hermione – they're back and safe, aren't they?"

She caught Charlie's hesitant expression.

"_Aren't they?"_

Charlie sighed. "They aren't back yet, Bren. Nobody can find them."

Brenna stopped in her tracks. A terrified expression emerged on her face. "Oh my Merlin. No, please. You can't be serious -"

An arm enveloped her shoulders as she was pulled into a warm embrace. "It'll be alright," George murmured as she finally burst into tears with her face buried into his chest. "They'll be fine, you'll see."

"Oh, they better be fine," Brenna mumbled as she focused all her energy into stopping the water from leaking out of her eyes. "I swear, if they get themselves killed, I'll be the first in line to hunt down their stupid spirits and tear into them so bad that they'll die all over again.

* * *

><p>One hour later, her (rather violent) prayers were thankfully answered. She heaved a loud sigh of relief as Mr. Weasley brought in three disheveled teens, and all she could manage was a very rushed "Harry, Hermione, Ron – thank Merlin you're safe!" before she gathered them into a hug that could rival one of Molly Weasley's herself when it came to death by suffocation. Five seconds later, she had hit them all very sharply over their heads, causing all three of them to emit a simultaneous 'ow, Brenna!' (she ignored them). "<em>Never<em> do that to me again. You will _not_ leave me alone, _ever_, got it? _Ever_." She then proceeded to hug the wits out of them all over again.

"Merlin, Brenna, what are we – popsicles?"

"Why Gred, listening to her talk, one would think –"

"-she didn't really appreciate –"

"-the pleasure of our company!"

Fred and George materialized on either side of her with identical grins, which then broke into identical frowns as they each raised identical arms to swat one of the two guys over their identically empty heads (Hermione, being a girl, got special treatment).

"Ow!"

"But seriously –"

"Don't do it again, alright?"

Brenna watched as Harry, Ron and Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Right."

"But first," Harry added, and then stared at Brenna meaningfully. "We need to talk."

Brenna gasped automatically. "Oh HARRY, please don't tell me you're breaking up with me!"

Five pairs of eyes fixed her with blank gazes.

She grinned embarrassedly. "Sorry. Reflex."

Five pairs of eyes closed and waited.

5... 4... 3... 2...

"But to be fair, you did sort of ask for it."

Sigh.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Alrighty then. (grins) Hello again.

(ducks to avoid the million fruity projectiles that sail right over her innocent head)

I AM SORRY!

REALLY!

I know I promised that I would update regularly and that I would never ever put you through the unbearable pain of unfinished stories like certain other authors that I will not deign to mention and that I failed miserably at following through with that promise and that you all hate me now.

I have no excuses.

…except maybe for the fact that I was slowly losing the loving interest that I had started with in this baby of mine before I finally reached the point where I couldn't even write a few measly paragraphs without getting inexplicably bored. (Blasphemy, I _know_.)

This chapter, specifically, I agonized over for six full months before giving up completely, and it has _still_ not quite reached the quality I had hoped it would attain.

It was only the day before yesterday that I finally found the inspiration and energy to finish it, and it was actually during this moment when I was reading this extremely exciting fanfic that was just reaching its most climatic moment when the author went and decided to post an author's note that said he/she was going to put it on hiatus. This, of course, filled me with righteous anger that set me off on a rant about literary injustice that went on and on for quite a while before I realized that I was doing pretty much the same thing, but only worse – I hadn't even had the decency to _inform_ you guys that I wouldn't be updating anytime soon. I am feeling so ashamed of myself right now.

I deserve to be thrown to the wolves.

I can only hope to reach the same pace of quick updates that I used to work with previously, but even I know that it's just not possible, especially with my twelfth board exams just around the river bend. Once a week, hopefully, is an easily attainable target. I will focus all my efforts into achieving it and not letting you guys down again.

To all those people who favorited, followed and reviewed – you have my sincere thanks. I love that you liked my story enough to do so. _Addictedtoyougal_, especially – you played a rather large role in helping me get off my ass and actually deciding to _write_ shit.

Please accept my apologies.

I do not deserve your kind forgiveness. :O

-Plimpy soup. (Man, the name sure does know how to ruin a somber atmosphere. It just makes me want to laugh).

Oh, and

P.S. Review, please! :)

and

P.P.S. about the whole _Muffliato_ thing (if you noticed) - just assume that there was this random moment when Brenna witnessed Snape use the incantation during a conversation with the Headmaster in the hallways to prevent anyone from dropping eaves. It would be all like... "Dumbledore! We need to talk! _Muffliato!" Bzzzz._ And Brenna goes - "Oh, that's a brilliant charm. Let me write it down so I don't forget it." Yeah.

(the end – if you actually read all of that – you are my role model. That was rather lengthy, don't you think?)


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After Brenna's spontaneous outburst, Harry finally sat everybody down and began to explain.

The part of the explanation that shed light on the mysterious loss of Harry's wand raised quite a few eyebrows.

"You lost your fucking _wand_, Harry?"

And indignant explosions.

"It was stolen!"

"IT WAS YOUR WAND, YOU STUPID CHUNK OF INEXPLICABLE STUPIDITY!"

Harry opened his mouth to argue some more, but then he caught sight of Brenna's suddenly twitching eyebrow, and then wisely decided to backtrack and say something safer instead.

"Right, of course. It was terribly careless of me, I should've anticipated it."

"TOO RIGHT YOU SHOULD'VE!"

"Calm down, Brenna," Bill said reassuringly. "He's got his wand now, doesn't he?"

Brenna's glare snapped over to him, causing him to shrink back slightly. "Don't tell me to calm down! You _never_ tell a girl to calm down! You only make them madder! Have you learned NOTHING AT ALL IN ALL THE TWENTY THREE YEARS OF YOUR LIFE?"

"Technically, its twenty three and a half –"

Brenna glared some more.

Bill shut up.

And then there was the part where the Dark Mark suddenly popped out of thin air. And the fact that people seemed to think a bloody elf had conjured it.

"An elf." Fred said blankly as George (literally) mirrored his expression.

"I know," Hermione agreed.

"An elf." Brenna repeated in the same tone – just for the heck of it.

"I _know!"_

Clearly, Hermione approved.

But then again, there were some reactions that ended up receiving a very strong black mark of disapproval.

"-Quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" Percy went on and on, swelling up like a panda, all sanctimonious and self-righteous. "...embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry – how that would have looked -!"

Yeah, Hermione didn't like that. At all.

"She didn't do anything! She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione screeched. Percy looked a bit scared.

So there.

Percy, unfortunately, was quick to recover himself.

"Hermione," he began in that stupid superior tone of his. "A wizard in Mr. Crouch's position cannot afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand."

Hermione's face took on a dangerous expression. Brenna was amused to hear Percy gulp quietly. "She DID NOT run amok! She just picked it up off the ground!"

Ron picked that moment to decide that enough was enough. "Look, can someone just tell me what that bloody skull thing was?" he said impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone – why's it such a big deal?"

Hermione sighed, in her why-isn't-anyone-else-as-smart-as-I-am way. "I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron. I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."

"And," Mr. Weasley added ominously. "It hasn't been seen in nearly thirteen or so years."

The whole room took on a somber tone.

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean… it's only a shape in the sky…"

"Ron," Mr. Weasley said wearily. "You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed. The terror it inspired… you have no idea, you were too young. Just picture coming home from a long day of work and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and dreading what you're about to find inside…" Mr. Weasley flinched. "Everyone's worst fear… the very worst…"

There was silence for a moment. All Brenna could do was shudder as she pictured in her mind's eye her coming back to their wonderful cottage home near Wickfordshire, only to see that horrible green skull floating in the air above the sloping roof and knowing…

She abruptly stopped that train of thought and tuned back into the ongoing conversation.

"- We can't prove it was them, Bill," Mr. Weasley said hopelessly. "Though it probably was…"

"Yeah, I bet it was," Ron burst out. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in the masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who…"

"Yeah well," Brenna interrupted, and all eyes turned to her. "That's all right and dandy, but what were those bastards even up to, levitating Mr. Roberts and his family like that? I mean, what was the damn point of all of this?"

Mr. Weasley gave a hollow laugh. "The point? Brenna, that's their idea of fun! Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding the masses that lots of them were still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"But if they were Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate as soon as they caught sight of the Dark Mark?" Ron questioned. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

Bill exhaled slowly. "Use your noggin, lil' brother. If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they ever were involved with his dealings, and went back to their everyday lives… I don't reckon he'd be very pleased with them, would he?"

"So… whoever conjured the Dark Mark…" Hermione said wonderingly. "Were they doing it to show their support for the Death Eaters, or scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," Mr. Weasley replied. "But I'll tell you this… it was only the Death Eaters that knew how to conjure it…"

Brenna didn't listen to the rest of the conversation. Her mind was elsewhere, in the world of Death Eaters, where she wondered exactly what the reason was behind this entire… dramatic incident. What were they planning to do? Was it just a reminder of their glory days once past? Or was it a precedent for more attacks to come? And the Dark Mark… what if it was in all senses, a declaration that You-Know-Who would be returning to haunt them once more?

Her mind raced, continuing to ponder over the night's events, and she was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice George take her arm and pass her on to Hermione, who dragged her back to their bunks where she fell asleep without bothering to discard her jacket or wand, still thinking about what was to come.

* * *

><p>Bill Weasley woke them up only a few hours later, but this time he had no trouble with Brenna because her sleep had been light and fitful, and she'd jerked out of her trance more times than she could count. As a result, it was a very tired Brenna Carson that left the campsite after they'd packed up.<p>

But when they passed Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage, having a strange, glazed look about him, it was all she could do not to run up to him and crush him to pieces.

"Merry Christmas," was what he murmured as they walked past him towards the portkey site.

_Fuck it_, she thought as she made a sharp U turn and went back to the cottage to hug him tightly, ignoring the other's shouts of protest.

"Woah there, lil' lassie," he grumbled, snapping out of his daze for an instant as he looked down at her messed up hair.

Brenna snorted and let him go. _Some things would never change_. She smiled up brightly at him before saying, "Thanks for being such a wonderful host!" and then running back down the road to catch up with the gaping group of redheads and friends. She could hear Mr. Roberts mumble quietly about hosts and crazy teenage girls as her strong legs carried her back to her friends, which made her smile even wider.

Dear Mr. Roberts.

"What –" Fred wondered. Everybody else looked equally stupefied.

Well, everybody except her wonderful best friends who knew exactly how she was wired, down to her very bones. They were smiling. Very knowingly. And admiringly.

"Aw, shucks," Brenna said with an exaggerated expression of modesty as she kicked the ground theatrically. "Don't stare at me, I'm delicate."

Everybody snapped out of their stupor and began to laugh as they walked over to the portkey site, which was overflowing with worried witches and wizards scrambling to get back to the safety of their homes. Their jolly expressions looked a little out of place, they realized, which made them revert back to their originally serious selves. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were given a yellow rubber duck that whisked them back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the light of the dawn, talking very little because they were suddenly so exhausted and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, twin cries echoed along the lane before a tiny missile latched onto Brenna's waist, causing her to reel back slightly.

"You're back," Jacob murmured into her stomach as she wrapped her arms around him reassuringly.

"And in one piece," Brenna laughed, ruffling his hair slightly. Another pair of arms enfolded the two siblings, and Brenna looked up to see her mother's relieved face, shedding a few tears as she brought her children closer to her chest. "Thank goodness, _thank goodness_," she said with a sniff, crushing them one more time before Jacob regained his warped sense of ten year old manliness and broke away from the hug, mumbling some shit about having too much estrogen in the family.

Brenna raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Jacob said indignantly. "I'm ten years old. Girls still have cooties to me."

She laughed and hugged him again, ignoring his cries of protest. "Next time, I'll be sure to suffocate you even more."

Mistake.

"Next time?" Sadie Carson shrieked loudly. "There will _be _no _next time, _young lady! You don't even _think_ about it!"

She looked like she was going to burst into tears all over again.

"Mom," Brenna sighed, her eyes taking on a suspicious wet sheen as she brought her mother into a hug once again. Belatedly, she realized that Jacob had somehow disappeared to who-knows-where in a scrambled effort to avoid more hugs and wet kisses as mother and daughter gushed over each other one more time. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you…"

Sadie sniffled once more before wiping her eyes and letting go. "Forget it," she mumbled, before gathering herself hurriedly. "Let's talk about something else, yes?" Her expression changed as her thoughts took on another path. Pink lips pulling into a pretty smile, she grabbed her daughter's hand and pulled her toward the rickety old house, passing the reuniting Weasley family where the infamous matriarch was sobbing into the twin's shoulders. Harry, Ron and Hermione offered her large smiles as the Carson females made their way in. "You're going to love this."

Eh?

"What do you mean?" Brenna questioned as she walked in the front door with an excited mother tugging at her arm, a complete opposite to the crying mom she had been just a few moments ago. "And how come you're at the Burrow, anyway? You and Jake?"

Sadie hummed as she directed her daughter up the stairs like she owned the place. "I decided to keep Molly company as we waited. We felt comfortable in each other's presence, because our positions are so similar in this case…" her face dropped for a moment before clearing and adopting that excited five-year-old-kid-on-Christmas-Day expression again. "Come on, I know you are going to just _adore_ this!"

"Adore _what?_" Brenna said exasperatedly as she walked into the room she was sleeping in – Ginny's room - before falling silent as she took in the garment that lay on Ginny's bed in awe. "Oh my god."

It was a beautiful dress, a pale, water-color sky blue in color, and it was strapless, with a sweetheart neckline that was just low enough to reveal some tasteful cleavage, and a bodice with beaded accents that sprinkled delicately into the beautiful A-line skirt that fell to the floor like a waterfall. It shimmered in the light of the emerging sun as it peeped through the clouds like a shy little girl, and it was as soft as a baby's bottom, Brenna realized, as she fingered the tulle layers of the skirt wonderingly. "Oh sweet Morgana," was all she could say.

"I bought it from this little boutique I found in town," Sadie said excitedly as she sat down next to The Dress (yes, it deserved to be capitalized, it was just that awesome), taking extra care not to wrinkle it even a little bit. "It seemed about your size, but we can make alterations from Twilfits and Tattings if we need to." She stared impatiently at her stupefied daughter. "Do you like it?"

Brenna blinked. "Do I _like _it?" she repeated, before looking at Sadie incredulously. "_Do I like it?_ _Of course_ I like it! It's beautiful! What, you think I'm _mad_ or something?"

Sadie laughed joyfully, a sound of tinkling bells that made Brenna's lips tug at the corners. "Oh thank Merlin, I was so worried."

Brenna picked up The Dress carefully and held it against her. "There was no reason to worry," she assured her mother. "But why'd you buy it?"

Sadie raised her eyebrows. "It was in the booklist, actually," she said, smirking slightly at Brenna as she adjusted it to lie against her more properly. "You think I'd splurge for no reason at all?"

The grey-eyed girl's mouth had dropped. "_The booklist?_" she said disbelievingly. "But why?"

Sadie's lips pulled into a knowing little smile, which she wiped off the instant she saw her daughter had noticed. "Oh I don't know. You'll find out in school, I suppose."

Brenna gasped. "You lie!" she accused, pointing her finger… well, accusingly. "Temme."

Her mother laughed. "You'll find out in school," she repeated. "I'm telling you nothing."

Egads, Brenna thought, narrowing her eyes at her smug little mommy intimidatingly (or so she thought). She sounds like Sergey…

_Gasp. _This made her pout.

No fair.

"You're mean," she mumbled, before looking back at her gown admiringly. "But you're still an awesome mommy."

Sadie smiled.

"I'm just happy you like it."

* * *

><p>"Oh Brenny, that's <em>beautiful!"<em> Hermione shrieked as she and Ginny walked into the room, their faces taking on awestruck expressions as they caught sight of the gown she was holding against her front. "You have wonderful taste, Mrs. Carson," she complimented, making Sadie's cheeks take on a pinkish hue as she smiled bashfully.

"Call me Sadie, darling," she said in that friendly way of hers that made even the most awkward person feel comfortable in her presence, something both her daughter and son had inherited.

Hermione beamed.

"What's it for, though," Ginny questioned as she touched the bodice gently. Her face held a wistful expression, something that made Brenna feel a little guilty, but it cleared almost immediately, being replaced by genuine wonder.

Brenna pouted again. "Mother Dearest won't tell," she said pointedly, but said mother only laughed. "It's in our booklists," she explained to the two girls.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "_Really_ now?" she said, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. "I wonder why."

Ginny's face was muted. Brenna almost felt pity, but she knew Ginny wouldn't like it, so she decided to continue admiring her dress.

"Don't worry," a voice whispered in her ear. Brenna looked up to see her mom looking at her rather knowingly. "Molly's got something for her as well. She's going to show her right about –"

"Ginny dear, would you come down for a moment? I have something to show you!"

The redhead's face perked up immediately and she practically ran down the stairs to see what her mother had gotten her. Brenna's face broke into a grin.

"Things have a way of solving themselves," Sadie said, satisfied.

"I wonder what I'll get," Hermione said, looking at herself in the mirror analytically. "What would suit me?"

Sadie jumped out of the bed instantly, getting right into her helpful mother element as she went to stand behind the bushy-haired young girl. "Hm," she said thoughtfully, taking in every detail, making Hermione blush slightly at the examination. "Your skin is a beautiful peachy white in color. Pastel colors and shades, perhaps – a delicate periwinkle blue, or better yet, a soft pink. With your petite structure, I suppose something floaty and light would do. Nothing heavy. Yes, that would be perfect…" Sadie grinned suddenly. "I saw a piece like that in the boutique I bought Brenna's dress from. And we need to accessorize for the dresses as well, of course. How about we pop over to your home and take your mother with us before we go? I'm positive she'd love to be a part of this." Her eyes became a little dreamy. "It's not always you see your baby girl getting ready for the first dance she's ever going to attend."

This made Brenna blush. "Mom…"

She threw her hands up amusingly. "Alright, fine! I'll stop acting like the stereotypical gushy mother. It's just…" she sniffed once more.

"Mom!"

"Right, okay…"

Hermione's lips quirked as she witnessed their mother-daughter dynamic. "We'll go after breakfast…?" she said, the ending trailing off to become a question.

Brenna and Sadie broke into identical smiles, looking forward to a day of girly shopping and more. "After breakfast."

* * *

><p>But they didn't leave after breakfast. In fact, it was only a little after lunch that they could finally go, because firstly, Hermione got into another passionate rant about house-elf slavery when Percy brought up the subject of damn Mr. Crouch again, which made even Brenna cower into her seat as she saw Hermione tear into the red-faced moron with a ferocity one hadn't seen since the famous Malfoy fiasco of last year.<p>

Holy shit, that punch was amazing.

Following that was Molly finding out that Fred and George had actually been filling out new order forms for their joke shop under the pretense of doing bloody _homework_, which took things to a whole new ridiculous level of shouting.

People were quite right to call her the human howler, really.

What a set of lungs on that one.

And _then_, Harry decided that that was the best moment for him to drop the nuke on his best friends.

"There's something I haven't told you," Harry began the moment Ron had closed the door of the attic behind them. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

Ron looked dumbstruck. Hermione gasped and immediately began making suggestions, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from Dumbledore to Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse.

Brenna, on the other hand, sat up and began brainstorming at once, not even bothering to wonder about the strange expression on Harry's face as he took in their reactions, like he'd taken a wild stab at them and had actually got them right.

"Scar… Moldywarts… Hm. World Cup? Dark Mark. Connections. What?" Brenna's thoughts continued to race as she mumbled unintelligibly to herself about what that could mean.

"But – he wasn't there, was he?" Ron was blathering in the background. "You-Know-Who? I mean – last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?"

"Harry," Brenna said suddenly, making his green eyes snap over to hers, his mouth closing shut with a click as he cut off his reply to Ron. "You _woke up_ with your scar hurting. Your dream. What was it about?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly as his lips shaped into a small 'o'. "It was about him… him and Peter – you know, Wormtail. I can't remember much of it now, but they were plotting to kill… someone."

Brenna's eyes narrowed as he teetered slightly on the end. "Someone, you say? By logic, we should probably look at the people who are the highest on his shit list right about now. Hm. If we think about it that way, I'd probably say it's either the only wizard he's ever feared, AKA Dumbledore, or the only wizard who's ever defeated him, AKA," she pointed at him. "You."

Hermione gasped, horrified. "Harry!"

Harry just gaped at her.

"It was only a dream," Ron said bracingly. "A nightmare."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows at him incredulously. "Is it? I mean, it's strange, isn't it? My scar hurts, and then three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's mark is up in the sky again."

"_Don't say his name_." Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

The other three ignored him.

"And what about what Trelawny said last year?" Brenna mused quietly. "Some blather about servant and master reunited and some such shit?"

Hermione's terrified look vanished immediately as she let out a derisive snort.

"Seriously, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that… old fraud says?"

Obviously, she was trying not to say anything more… descriptive.

"You weren't there," Harry said. "You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance – a real one. And she said something about how the Dark Lord would rise once more, greater and more terrible than ever before… and that night Wormtail escaped."

"And Dumbledore has to keep her around for a reason, right?" Brenna tried to help. "She can't be a _total_ fraud if he's still paying her to teach…"

There was a silence as Ron fidgeted absentmindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons bedspread.

"You were asking about Hedwig earlier at breakfast," Hermione recalled. "Are you expecting a letter, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I told Sirius about my scar. I'm waiting for his answer."

"Oh, good idea," Ron said, his expression clearing. "I bet Sirius'll know what to do."

The messy-haired boy sighed. "I hoped he'd get back to me quickly…"

"But – what if he's in Africa or something," Brenna said reluctantly. "That would take more than a few days for Hedwig, really."

"Yeah – I know," Harry said, looking out at the window to stare at the owl-free sky. His shoulders dropped like a sudden weight had started to hold him down.

"Hey," Brenna murmured before hugging him slightly, ignoring Harry's slight I'm-a-guy-who's-being-hugged-by-a-girl-O-my-God type blush. "Let's have a game of Quidditch, shall we? In the orchard…?"

Ron perked up instantly. "Brilliant idea. Come on, four on four, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and Ginny will play… You can try out the Wronski feint…"

"Oh come on," Hermione scolded in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice. "Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now… He's worried, and he's tired…"

Harry grinned suddenly. "Yeah, I want to play Quidditch. Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt…"

Hermione sighed and stood up, muttering incoherent nonsense about having Quidditch-obsessed maniacs for friends, before turning to look at Brenna exasperatedly. "I'll Floo your mom," she told her. "After lunch, then?"

Brenna blushed as she remembered the outing they'd planned for the day, something that had completely slipped her mind with all the drama that had been happening all morning. "Yeah," she agreed. "After lunch."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Well hello there! (grins)

So I finally updated.

I'm not going to scramble over apologies in this case, though, because _this time_, I have a valid excuse.

Preliminary exams and practicals and board exams and other such shit DO take a precedence over literary amusement, you know (though it is quite unfortunate). :P

Even more unfortunate, the exams are still going on, so the next update is going to be after the 13th at best. Hopefully.

I'm not going to say much else after this, only that I hope you liked the chapter up and above and that I want to thank all those people who took the time to read, favorite, add-to-alerts-list, and review my story. I really do appreciate it, you guys.

I fervently hope you will continue to be patient with me and my sporadic updates and long author notes and other such crap.

Lemon tarts and cinnamon cupcakes,

Plimpy Soup.

P.S. do take the time to review, you couch potatoes.

P.P.S. I still love you for even bothering to read this shit, though.

P.P.P.S. on the other hand, tokens of appreciation _will _makeme update faster...

P.P.P.P.S. yeah, don't listen to my hints. do what you wanna do. I won't implore you to do anything.

(puppy-dog eyes)


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Now one must understand, afternoons full of girly shopping and gossip are definitely _not_ a new thing for Brenna, no matter how out of character it may seem, because for Merlin's sake, even after all the quirks and craziness, Brenna was still a girl.

So when Brenna and Hermione _finally_ found the time to leave, both of them were _plenty_ excited.

(Ginny, unfortunately, was not allowed to come. Mrs. Weasley had regretfully said no. Something about not letting her little baby out of her sight for the rest of her life or something like that. Pft. Overprotective mothers. So ridiculous.)

They were bouncing and they were giggling and they were teasing and they were acting _completely_ out of character – at least, according to the boys they were.

"Are you seeing what I am seeing?" Harry asked as he eyed the excited fourteen year old girls in front of them with caution.

"Seeing, yeah," Ron affirmed, also staring with a similar blank expression on his face. "Still working on believing."

Brenna heard them and scoffed. "So the fact that we can just be a couple of girls who enjoy a day of shopping is weird to you?" she questioned, eyes narrowing slightly. "What _exactly_ are you trying to insinuate?"

She delighted in the way they hurried to eat their words and save their arses from what they presumed to be their inevitable doom.

"N- no! Of course not! –"

"We never said anything like that! –"

"Seriously! I swear, we never meant anything by it!"

Blah blah blah.

"Oh, cut it out," Fred said as the two twins materialized behind the panicking teenagers, grinning widely.

"They're just yanking your wand, look at them," George pointed, eyes glittering as he watched the realization dawn on the two boys' faces.

"_Ooooh."_

Brenna and Hermione smirked. _"Yeahhh." _They mocked. Harry and Ron looked at Hermione like they couldn't believe their ears.

And that was when Mummy Carson finally decided to Apparate into the Burrow's front porch. "Come on girls, let's go!"

And so they went.

The Granger family household was exactly what one would typically expect when it came to being owned by a very wealthy dentist couple. It was two storeys high, very well-kept, with a beautiful garden and a little backyard swimming pool. But no matter how 'doctorish' it looked, it was still very warm and welcoming.

It was a petite Scottish lady that opened the door when they rang the doorbell.

"Hermione!" she greeted, brushing a stray lock of messy brown hair out of her face. "And you brought friends!" She had a warm, clear speech, but her Scottish accent was not very pronounced. Rather, it tended to uplift the stronger syllables instead, giving her voice a softer, more bell-like quality. "Come in, all of you!" she welcomed, moving aside to let the three visitors in. "_Bonnie_, your parents are in the Dining Room. They just finished lunch. Go on!"

And with that, they were shooed along the hallway towards what Brenna presumed to be the Dining Room with a smile and a nod.

"You have a beautiful house," Sadie said as she looked at the paintings that were hung on the walls. Her expression was a little odd, as if she couldn't get over the fact that the paintings were actually frozen in place and not really moving, like the wizarding portraits.

"Thank you," Hermione blushed, before starting to explain. "That was Arabel. She's our housekeeper. She takes care of everything in the house because Mum and Dad are usually too busy to."

She stopped talking as they reached a door at the end of the (slightly long) hallway. "Here we go," she said, before opening the door.

"Hermione?" Dan and Emma Granger exclaimed as they got to their feet to welcome the three guests. "I thought we wouldn't see you till Christmas!" Mr. Granger continued as they came over to hug their daughter.

"Yes, but the supply list says that we apparently need to take dress robes to school for some reason," Hermione explained, brandishing the letter she'd obtained from Mrs. Weasley, who had been the one responsible for her shopping.

"Dress robes?" Mrs. Granger questioned.

"Well, it can be a normal dress too," Sadie piped in before holding out a hand. "Sadie Carson. I'm Brenna's mother."

The two elder Grangers shook her hand in turns. "Wonderful to meet you," Mrs. Granger said on behalf of them both. "And it's good to see you, Brenna dear."

Brenna grinned. "Hello, Mrs. Granger."

Emma hummed. "Oh, do call me Emma, dear, Mrs. Granger is my mother-in-law!"

"But why dress robes?" Dan Granger questioned as they all moved to the Sitting Room.

"Oh, I don't know," Sadie said evenly. "I presume they'll find out in school." And then she winked so obviously even a beggar all the way in Norway would have gotten the message behind her words.

"Mom…" Brenna whined.

Sadie raised her eyebrows. "I told you, I'm telling you nothing."

"Hmph."

"So," Sadie continued, ignoring her momentarily sulking daughter. Hermione was just laughing quietly in the background. "I've already bought a dress for Brenna, but she still needs a bunch of other stuff as well. Hermione still needs to buy hers. I was thinking we could make this a proper girls day out, if you were interested…?" The last part lifted into a question.

Emma positively beamed. "Oh, absolutely!" She said delightfully before both mother and daughter Grangers turned to torture the only male in the family with very artfully created puppy dog eyes.

"You wouldn't mind, would you darling?" Emma said sweetly as she picked some imaginary lint out of her husband's shirt-covered chest. Said husband gulped.

"Of course Daddy wouldn't," Hermione said in that same sweet tone, giving her father a very light peck on the cheek and then smiling imploringly at him again.

Dan Granger conceded defeat.

"Brilliant!" Emma squealed as she rushed out of the Sitting Room. "Give me five minutes, and I'll meet you at the porch!"

There was a beat of silence.

Brenna turned wide eyes at Hermione, who was smirking smugly. "You should've been a Slytherin," she said, her voice quivering with admiration. Hermione's smirk widened.

"Oh, it's nothing," she replied, waving her hand airily as if trying to swat the compliment away.

"No no," Brenna disagreed. "That was emotional manipulation down to an art form. _You are my role model."_

This time, Hermione blushed. "Oh, forget it," she said, before turning the subject onto something else. Before long, five minutes were up and the three females hurried out of the Sitting Room to meet Emma at the front door after bidding Dan a happy goodbye.

"So where are we going?" Emma asked as Sadie guided them over to a secluded spot behind a nearby bakery.

"Well," Sadie said. "I can't side-along Apparate three people at once, so it's either two separate trips or the Knight Bus. What do you choose?"

Hermione and Brenna frowned thoughtfully as Emma just blinked. "I don't like the sound of leaving someone behind," Hermione finally said.

Sadie grinned. "Knight Bus it is, then!"

And it was a short, horrible trip filled with bumps and curses and bruises at very weird places before the bus finally stopped at Glenningdale Street, Wickfordshire. It was a very relieved group that escaped the bus that sped away into oblivion without waiting a single beat.

"We are never getting on that thing again!" Emma rasped out as she stumbled onto the footpath, looking ruffled and unsteady.

Brenna laughed.

They quickly found the shop Sadie had been gushing about a few minutes away. It was a quaint little place at the corner of the street, placed conveniently across an accessory store on the other side of the road.

"Sadie!" A blonde-haired woman about Brenna's height called as she stepped out of the store. There was a soft chiming noise as the door closed behind her. "You're back again, are you? And this is your daughter?" she asked, coming to a stop directly in front of Brenna and peering at her intently. Brenna grinned.

"Yes, I see it!" She exclaimed, smiling widely. "She looks so much like you, you know, if you discount the hair and the eyes. Everything else is you."

Sadie's lips quirked. "This is Brenna and her friend Hermione. Emma is Hermione's mother," she introduced, patting each person's shoulder in turn. The blonde smiled at each of them in return.

"I am Ida," she said before ushering them in. "So what are you looking for?"

Sadie motioned towards Hermione. "We need a dress for this one." Hermione's cheeks pinked.

Ida circled her and hummed. "I'll find you a few outfits. You can look around if you want. Pick out anything you like."

The four scattered instantly.

Before long, Hermione was in the dressing room with an armful of dresses to try on and Brenna and Emma were sitting outside, waiting to see what she would look like.

Sadie was talking to Ida out in the display section. "…floaty, light. It was a beautiful shade of light pink, going darker as it went down…"

Ida was nodding. "I know what you're talking about. It's right here…" There were sounds of rummaging.

"Aha! The shop owner exclaimed. "I found it!"

There were sounds of hurrying footsteps before Sadie burst into the little sitting area outside the trial rooms. She held up a gorgeous pink dress before gently handing it over the door to the fourteen year old standing inside. "Go on!"

Miraculously, none of the dresses they'd picked before suited Hermione very well. They were either too heavy, or too shapeless, or too… well, too revealing. But the pink one…

"THAT IS PERFECT!" Brenna squealed as she stared at the blushing Hermione who was looking very beautiful in the pink floor length gown.

"You think so?" She asked as she did a little twirl.

Emma sniffed. "Oh, _Hermione_, my darling little girl…"

Hermione's face turned embarrassed. "Mum…"

Sadie and Brenna grinned.

So they bought the dress, went over to the accessory store, bought some smashing stuff to match their dresses, and then ended up buying something for Ginny as well.

"Look at it!" Brenna exclaimed, pointing at the pretty green pendant and earring set insistently. "It's the exact shade of Ginny's outfit, it's perfect!"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, but I don't think it will be received very well… she might see it as charity or something."

Brenna pshawed. "Don't be ridiculous. How much does it cost? Oh, it's not that expensive! Look," she said, turning to look at Hermione pleadingly. "We can buy it as a joint Christmas present. Individually, it is probably too expensive, yeah, but if we club it together…"

Hermione still looked a little unsure.

Sadie and Emma were standing behind the two girls, looking at them quietly. "Buy it," Sadie said in the end. "Ginny's a sweetheart. It will suit her perfectly. And Brenna's right. It's perfect as a Christmas present. She won't be as reluctant to accept as you might think."

And so they bought it.

The rest of the day was spent loitering around the town, looking into random shops and eating snacks at the little café near the theatre. It was a happy day, and as they were getting ready to leave in the evening, Emma appeared to have a suspicious wet sheen to her eyes.

"It was wonderful," she said, hugging everybody in turn, leaving her daughter for last. "Thank you for inviting me."

Sadie waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense. You had to come. Don't be ridiculous." And then she hugged her again.

Emma laughed and brought her daughter into her arms one last time. "You looked beautiful in that dress," she murmured, kissing her daughter on the cheek. "I hope you enjoy this year. And mark my words, that Ron boy is never going to pass you off as just another one of the guys again. In fact, I'm telling you, he's going to turn into a big puddle of goo when he sees you rocking that gown like the boss you are."

Hermione turned a furious shade of red. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish but no sound came out.

Brenna and Sadie burst out laughing.

"Oh come on," Emma said, giggling as well. "You were so obvious, especially last year during the trip to Diagon Alley! You're my daughter. I'm supposed to notice these things."

"_Obvious, you say?"_ Hermione asked, still looking very red.

"Not to the one who needs to see it," Brenna reassured, grinning hugely. "Ron's an oblivious moron. Your secrets are safe."

"Brenna!" Sadie admonished.

"What? It's true!"

"That doesn't mean you can insult him about it!" Sadie told her, but she was smiling nonetheless.

"You can't say anything about it _without_ insulting him," Brenna protested. "His ability to think about nothing but food and Quidditch is absolutely unbelievable."

"How many people know?" Hermione demanded, looking at Brenna a little crazily.

"Well," Brenna thought. "Harry, the rest of the Weasleys, the whole of Gryffindor, most of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, quite a few Slytherins, some of the teachers – and yes, that includes Snape – Dumbledore... That's it, I think."

Hermione swelled slightly. _"That's it?"_

Brenna's lips parted to form a little 'o'. "Then this might not be the right time to tell you about the betting pool the twins started about when you two would get together sometime last year, would it?"

Hermione swelled even more. _"Betting pool?"_

Brenna's breath hitched slightly. "Heh."

"Brenna?" Hermione questioned.

She gulped. "Yeah?"

Sadie and Emma were laughing in the background.

"Did you place a bet on us?"

Brenna pretended not to hear.

"_Brenna!"_

Damn.

"Alright fine," she relented, making her lips go all pouty. "I bet six galleons on sometime at the end of seventh year."

_Now_ Hermione just looked like a kicked puppy. There was just no satisfying her. "Seventh year?" she wailed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why would you think it would take so long?"

Brenna felt guilty. "Well," she paused. "I told you. Ron's an oblivious moron. He's not going to come around anytime soon."

Hermione turned sad eyes onto her. "You think so?" she asked in a small voice, and Brenna just had to pull her into a warm hug.

"I could be wrong, you know," she said consolingly. Hermione sniffled. "The dress just might be the push he needs to get his head out of his arse and ask you out. It doesn't have to go the way I say."

"Well," Sadie concluded, patting Hermione on the back lightly. "It all comes down to whether he'll be brave enough to ask you out, then. It's time to go home now," she said with a smile. "You two wait at Ida's shop. I'll pop Emma over to her home before collecting you, okay?"

The two girls' teeth shone in the light of the setting sun. "Okay."

They were tired but happy as they entered the Weasley household to be welcomed by loud noise and laughter. Brenna joined in, but she didn't talk much, choosing instead to laze about on the couch, her head on George's lap as she fiddled with her wand with an absent smile. Sometime later, Brenna dozed off, curling up slightly with George's large palm in her hand. Knowing smiles were on the other's faces as George decided it was only right to carry her up to her bed instead, because he didn't like the idea of waking her up and the couch just wouldn't be very comfortable for a whole night's sleep. There was no other reason, of course.

George scoffed. Who was he kidding?

The next morning, Brenna woke up under her covers with a subconscious smile on her face. It was obviously because it was the first of September, the day she went back to Hogwarts, and not because of what happened last evening, of course.

Obviously.

* * *

><p>Brenna whistled as she walked out of the shower, wearing an emerald green elbow sleeve T shirt and dark grey summer shorts. She was toweling her hair with one hand and had decided to start poking Hermione in the stomach with the other.<p>

"Wake up, 'Mione. Time to go to Hogwarts."

"Wha –" Hermione yawned. "What's the time?"

Brenna hummed out a few more notes as she glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Eight forty-five. Get up."

"Hm," Hermione murmured as she got used to the sunlight. "Ginny up yet?"

Brenna stared mock-thoughtfully at the snoring redhead on the bed. Her limbs were sprawled about and the noises she was emitting were enough to wake a small town. She raised an eyebrow at the brunette in incredulity.

"I don't think so, nope."

Hermione listened and then realized. Her expression turned slightly embarrassed. "…Shut up. I'm still half-asleep."

"Uh huh."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose I have to get up, then?"

Brenna tossed her a grin and a pillow, which hit her smack on the head. She released a tiny 'oof'. "I'd think so, yeah."

"Shut up."

"That all you can say, my bushy little braniac buddy?"

"Shut. Up."

Brenna laughed. "Get on with it. I'm hungry."

And with a very loud sigh, Hermione reluctantly stepped out of the warmth of her camp bed to start her morning chores. "You're waking Ginny up."

The black-haired teenager turned disbelieving eyes back to the honking redhead. "You're not serious!"

"Oh, I'm plenty serious. Go on. She actually punched me last time I tried."

Brenna pouted. "But I'm delicate!"

"You're a chaser," Hermione said slowly, her voice muffled as it travelled from the bathroom. "You've got muscles. You can _take_ a punch or two. I'm not doing it!"

Brenna grimaced. "Fine," she mumbled before glaring at Ginny in contemplation. What to do, what to do?

Oh.

Brenna grinned and took out her wand. With a quick look at a Charms reference book she found somewhere near her bed, she stood in front of the mirror, murmured a quiet spell, and watched as her face began to morph painlessly.

Her eyes became bigger and greener, her eyebrows thicker, her jaw more squared and her cheekbones a little lower. Her hair remained black, but it was shorter and _way_ messier.

Two seconds later, she was staring at the exact replica of the face of one Harry James Potter.

She smirked her _own_ smirk, which looked a little strange on Harry's face. "Splendid. Oh," she added, and then made her voice deeper. "_Splendid."_

Time for a show.

She slowly made her way to Ginny's bed and then lay right beside her so her (Harry's) face was directly opposite hers. With a slow smile, she inched closer and kissed her on the nose. "Ginny darling," she said in a startling imitation of Harry's voice. "It's time to wake up."

"Hm?" Ginny murmured at the sound of Harry's voice before opening an eye and smiling lazily. "Harry," she said and wrapped an arm around Brenna's neck. Okay, things were getting a little creepy.

Ginny's hand stilled. "Harry?" She repeated, before snapping her eyes open and shrieking. Loudly. "HARRY!"

Several things happened at once.

Ginny tried to roll away but somehow got tangled in the bed-sheets and ended up getting tossed out of the bed instead.

Brenna burst into giggles.

Hermione rushed out of the bathroom with her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth before staring in befuddlement at Ginny on the floor and Brenna (with Harry's face) on the bed. "Wha –"

There were thudding footsteps outside in the hallway before one certain black-haired, green-eyed youth burst into the room. "Ginny! What happened? Why'd you shout my name?"

He stopped and blinked. "What the hell?"

Ginny glanced at the door, took one look at Harry's confused face, and then shrieked again. "OH MY GOD!"

Hermione had enough. "Brenna!" she said, taking the toothbrush out of her mouth to speak. "What are you _doing?"_

Harry stared at 'Brenna'. "Bren?" he questioned, and then blinked again. "Why are you wearing my face?"

Ginny was turning a really bright red in embarrassment. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my _god…_"

Brenna finally stopped laughing and waved her wand, dissipating the glamour on her face so that she was herself again. "It was just a little prank."

Now Ginny was annoyed. "A prank? A _prank?_ BRENNA CARSON, HAVE YOU NO SHAME?" she raged, her hair flying all over the place as she lectured her friend. She continued to shout, using extremely expressive gestures to emphasize her words. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO SUCH A THING, TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ME LIKE THAT!"

"It was a prank!" Brenna repeated, holding up her arms in protest.

"NO IT WASN'T!" Ginny scolded. "YOU WON'T BELIEVE HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS, HONESTLY! –"

Hermione tuned out the rest of the rant and looked at Harry, who was still standing by the doorway, looking a little scared.

She raised her eyebrows.

Harry agreed. "Yeah, I'll just –" He pointed with his thumb. "Go."

And with that, he scarpered.

A little farther down in the hallway, she could hear Harry talking to the rest of the family, who'd come up to see what all the shouting was all about - "Yeah, don't go in there. I'm serious. Just let it go. You _don't_ want to get into… that."

Hermione sighed and turned around to head back into the bathroom, putting the toothbrush back into her mouth. "When I said _wake her up_, I meant _wake her up_. Not scar her to death," she mumbled, brushing her teeth vigorously. "Hm. Scar. What an ironic term to use."

In the background, Ginny was still shouting and Brenna was trying in vain to get her to shut up. "I really need to get new friends," she sighed and then rinsed. "Idiots."

After the shouting finally concluded (this happened when Brenna finally managed to squeeze in a short apology when Ginny paused for breath before she started again), they finally got ready and went down for breakfast, talking and laughing like nothing had even happened before. Their jolly entrance was greeted with long stares and blank looks.

"What was that about?" Ron questioned as he pointed upwards.

Ginny raised her eyebrows and smirked slightly. "You _really _want to know?"

Ron turned green. "…no."

They ignored Harry's mumbled 'smart idea' in the background and sat down for breakfast. "Pass me the marmalade," Ginny ordered as she picked up a few slices of toast. Brenna did so without further ado. It was still quiet, which made her look up. Everybody was still staring at the two of them.

An eyebrow rose in question. "Yes?"

"Nothing!"

"Absolutely nothing!"

Sigh. So _easy_.

* * *

><p>The ride to the station was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that they were positively <em>jammed<em> in the back of the taxis with their trunks. Crookshanks took quite a while to get over his hissy fit which occurred because of some accident with a few of Fred's fireworks (don't ask), and Mo, Brenna's owl, ended up becoming even more hyper than usual, and by the time they entered London, Brenna was covered in scratches.

When they finally reached King's Cross sometime at ten forty five, Brenna couldn't have been more relieved.

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was a familiar sight to Brenna by now. The Hogwarts Express was already there; clouds of steam billowing from it, and most of the students were already there.

"BRENNA!" Somebody shouted, and Brenna whirled around to see Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott waving at her frantically. Brenna grinned.

"I'll be back in a mo," Brenna told the others before setting down her trunk and owl next to Harry's and running over to catch up with them. "Susan, Hannah – hi," she greeted, giving them warm hugs. "How were your holidays?"

"They were fun," Susan said, hazel eyes sparkling as she brushed a lock of red hair behind her face. "Hannah came over to stay at the end for a bit."

"How's Harry?" Hannah questioned before blushing slightly. "He looks good."

Brenna smirked. "You keep saying you don't like him," she reminded, poking the blonde in the shoulder lightly.

"I'm just saying he looks good!" Hannah protested. "It's nothing else!"

Susan hummed. "That's what you _say_."

"Susan!"

"What? It sure doesn't _look_ it! Why won't you admit it, you goose? –"

Brenna laughed again. "Take it easy, it's okay. But I don't know, Harry seemed to have a crush on Cho at the end of last year…"

Hannah waved a hand dismissively, but she did look a little crestfallen. "I'm telling you, I don't like him – say, I think Hermione's asking you to come over."

Brenna turned and saw Hermione waving at her. "Hm," she mumbled before smiling at the two Hufflepuffs brightly. "I'll see you on the train. Bye!"

"Later, Bren!"

"We'll be in our usual carriage!"

Brenna made her way back to the group. "What's up?" she questioned before falling silent as she listened to what Charlie and Bill were saying.

"– classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it, after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I was back at Hogwarts this year," Bill said, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the gleaming scarlet train.

"Why?" Brenna needled.

Bill's eyes twinkled. "You're going to have an interesting year. I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."

Ron looked annoyed. "A bit of what?"

But then the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

They boarded the train, closed the door and leaned out of the window to continue talking.

"Thanks for letting us stay, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. Harry and Brenna chimed in with agreement.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'd invite you for Christmas but… well, I expect you're going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with… one thing and another."

"Mum!" Ron said irritably. "What do you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," Mrs. Weasley smiled. "It's going to be very exciting – mind you, I'm very glad they changed the rules –"

"What rules?"

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you… Now behave, won't you? Fred? George?"

The piston hissed and the train began to move.

"TELL US!" Fred bellowed out the window as the rest of the Weasleys sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"

But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train rounded the corner, she, Bill and Charlie had Disapparated.

"What rules are they changing?" Fred repeated as he looked at them with exasperation on his face.

Brenna shrugged. "Damned if I know."

Ron snorted. "People can be so rude sometimes."

Everybody turned to stare at him blankly.

He blinked. "What?"

"Seriously?" Brenna said with a grin before snorting (femininely) and walking away to find their compartment.

"What?"

"Just don't," Hermione giggled and made to catch up with Brenna.

"Really! What did I say? Hey, wait up!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Sigh. Dear sweet Ron.

So this was sort of a filler chapter, I guess. I dunno. I wanted to include the journey to Hogwarts on the express in THIS one, but it was getting too long, so it's going to be in the next chapter - WHICH, surprisingly, is already halfway through, so I'll probably be updating sooner than usual. Maybe tomorrow or the day after. HOPEFULLY.

It all depends, you know. What if my drive's wiped or something?

Gasp. I should not think such unlucky thoughts.

ANYWAY.

I hope you like this one. My favorite part was the prank on Ginny. I tried to make it seem funny and not something like: hey, let's do a prank (does something short and extremely undescriptive) - oh ha ha, so funny - NOT. Sometimes, the way people describe pranks on fanfiction really gets on my nerves. It's a _prank_. It should make me laugh, or at least _sm__ile._ Not make me stare blankly at the screen and wonder what exactly was so funny about doing what they just did. So not cool.

So I tried to do it justice. And I hope I succeeded. :P

I will now go on to thank all those who favorited and added the story to their alerts lists. You are some awesome people. To the people who reviewed - I hope people were more like you in the sense they actually took the time to write their thoughts and opinions and then _post_ it, thereby making me very happy and Brenna like in behavior (another - bloody obvious - hint).

But no matter. I'm still grateful you read this far. :D

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. :)

-Plimpy Soup.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"What is _this_?" Brenna asked as she poked the frilly white lace suspiciously. Harry stifled a laugh.

"This," Ron sighed, shooting a glare at the obviously failing-at-his-noble-task Harry. "is my dress robe."

Silence.

And then Brenna and Hermione burst into a fit of giggles.

Ron's eyebrows furrowed to form a petulant frown. "You are some horrible people," he pouted. Brenna and Hermione paid him no heed, continuing on with their laughter with a few snorts randomly thrown in.

"Its," Harry fought valiantly. "It's not _that _bad…"

Brenna and Hermione laughed harder.

"Oh, shut up," Ron moaned, throwing the maroon monstrosity over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his loud hooting. "I can't _believe_ Mum expects me to _wear_ this thing! It's hideous!"

Brenna tried to force down her laughter. _Then_ her brain conjured up an image of Ron actually wearing that horrible looking thing, tugging at the ugly lace on the front and scowling embarrassedly, with a faceless date standing in the background, looking mortified at the idea of suffering through an entire night of such extensive humiliation. The giggles started again.

"Brenna," Ron whined, and began to poke her repeatedly in the stomach. "Brenna, stop it."

Brenna tried to swat the hand away, but the tears in her eyes were making it sort of hard to see. "Ron – (giggle giggle) – Ron, cut it out! (snort)"

"Not until you stop laughing," Ron said adamantly. "You stop laughing _now."_

Brenna tried to force it down again. This time, she succeeded. Barely.

Hermione wordlessly offered her a hand to pull her up from the floor where she'd been rolling around – hey, when did that happen? Nevertheless, Brenna got up painfully and dumped herself into the seat she had been previously occupying.

"There, I stopped. You happy now?"

Ron looked at her weirdly and then tossed a glance at the robes again. "No."

Brenna grinned.

"Isn't there someone who could help?" Harry asked as he regarded Crookshanks, who had begun to paw at his trouser legs suspiciously, with a wary gaze. "Bren?"

"Hm?" Brenna looked at him thoughtfully. "Alicia Spinnet – you know, the girl I replaced on the Quidditch team? – she's a whiz at transfiguration… maybe she could help or something…"

"Really?" Ron perked up. "You think so?"

Brenna looked at him cautiously. "I said maybe. I'll ask her later. We don't even know if she'll help."

Ron nodded in agreement, but he still looked pretty excited. Yeah, it was definitely something to look forward for.

The poor guy.

"Hey, stop talking for a moment," Hermione said suddenly, eyes narrowing slightly as she pointed towards the corridor outside. "Listen."

Brenna, Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting down the hallway.

"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore – the man's such a Mudblood lover – and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of sending me to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do…"

Hermione stood up, tiptoed towards the door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" Hermione fumed. "I wish he _had _gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him." Mo hooted his approval.

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school, then?" Harry questioned.

"Mhm," Brenna agreed. "And it's got a real shoddy reputation, too. They even teach the Dark Arts over there, supposedly."

"It was mentioned in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe," Hermione added. "According to it, there is a lot of emphasis put on the subject."

"I think I've heard of it," Ron said vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Nobody knows, do they?"

"Er – why not?" Harry blinked.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Come off it," Ron laughed. "Durmstrang's got to be the same size of Hogwarts – how are you going to hide a great, big castle?"

Brenna and Hermione looked surprised. "But, Ron," the brunette said incredulously. "Hogwarts _is _hidden."

"It's got the best defenses in the country," Brenna supplemented. "Everybody knows that."

"Well," Hermione allowed. "Everyone who reads Hogwarts: A History, anyway."

Ron raised an eyebrow at Brenna. "What about you, then? You've never read the book –"

Brenna rolled her eyes. "That sort of thing becomes common knowledge when you've got a crazy reporter for a mother. And besides," she added, standing up and stretching. "If you have to listen to this one (she pointed at Hermione) reciting every passage in the book over and over and over again (the other girl sniffed indignantly, making Brenna grin), it'll eventually lodge itself into your head and never get out."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione frowned. Brenna grinned again.

"But we _do _listen to her recite the book over and over and over again," Ron protested. Hermione shifted her glare towards him.

Brenna looked at him blankly. "You don't share a dormitory with her ninety per cent of the year."

"Oh," Ron nodded. "Good point."

Brenna snorted and began to move towards the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"Doing a few rounds visiting the others!" Brenna threw back at them, twisting her head to face them as she moved. "Promised Susan and Hannah I'd visit them, and I want to go say hi to the Quidditch gang, and Justin, and Wayne, and –"

"Oh, just go," Hermione cut in exasperatedly. Harry and Ron just shook their heads.

Brenna bounced in place. "I'll be back soon!" she beamed, and then sped away.

Harry, Hermione and Ron regarded each other. A sigh escaped them simultaneously.

_Dear_ Brenna.

"Don't sigh at me like that!" Brenna's voice floated down the hallway, making the three Gryffindors jump in surprise. They stared at each other again.

"How does she _do_ that?" Ron asked exasperatedly.

"I just know you," came the reply from even farther away. This time, Ron was positive she had been too far away to hear what he had said. He looked at the others incredulously, but no explanation was forthcoming.

"She can read minds," Ron said conclusively. There was no way she could do that otherwise.

Hermione snorted. "No," she corrected, smirking slightly. "She just knows you."

And with that, she sat back with a satisfied smile and buried herself into the wonder that was her favorite book, A.K.A Hogwarts: A History.

Harry and Ron exchanged another look. _Girls_, they seemed to think simultaneously, but this time, they were smart enough not to say anything.

Who said boys couldn't be trained?

* * *

><p>Brenna snickered as she imagined Ron's face when she'd shouted out her reply, making random people from random compartments pop their heads out of the door and stare at her strangely. She largely ignored these people, but when she came across the bewildered face of one Zacharias Smith, she couldn't resist flipping him off.<p>

He turned a really dark shade of pink.

He did not look good in this dark shade of pink.

"Curse you, Carson!" Smith shouted as she scampered away.

'_Curse you, Carson!_ She mocked in her mind before chuckling and flipping him off again.

"Argh!" came the eloquent reply, making her laugh again. He was so much fun to irritate. Arrogant sod.

_Speaking of arrogant sods,_ she thought, cursing as she glimpsed a distinct peroxide blonde head flanked by two rather large black haired fools and a simpering pug-faced bitch a little ways ahead.

"- The Headmaster's a fool, I must say – who could possibly allow that bumbling fool to actually _teach_ a class? You remember what happened last year, don't you? That uncivilized beast of his practically ripped off my arm! I cannot believe it actually got away. It should have been put down, that's what! –"

Ah, she realized. He was nattering on about Hagrid now.

_Bumbling fool, you say? _Brenna thought as she slapped on a quick Notice-Me-Not charm, slowing down so as not to make any unnecessary noise. The idiot didn't even notice as she came within close range, continuing to blather on about shit and nonsense without paying any heed to his surroundings. She bypassed him fairly easily, but not before sending a quick jinx his way, spelling his shoelaces together into one thick, tangled, twisted knot. She laughed as she heard the fool tumble to the ground, taking his three lackeys down with him as he went.

"What are _you _chuckling about?" Susan asked as she poked her head out of her compartment door. Brenna grinned at her as she was allowed in.

"Malfoy," she explained to the four people inside as she threw herself into one of the unoccupied seats with a satisfied smile.

Justin and Wayne made identical noises of disgust as Hannah and Susan frowned.

"What was that idiot doing _now_?" the redhead asked as she sat down next to her best friend, who was scowling quite impressively. "I don't like him," she muttered, folding her arms petulantly.

Brenna's grin widened. "He was going on and on about Hagrid being a bumbling fool. So I showed him what being a bumbling fool really _was_ like."

Wayne leaned forward, dark eyes glinting in curiosity. "What'd you do?"

Brenna's grin went even wider, if possible. It now looked like it was being stretched to maximum proportions. "I spelled his shoelaces together," she said, satisfied. "He went down like a house of cards."

The compartment burst into laughter. "Oh my god," Justin positively _giggled_. "Oh my _god._"

Brenna sighed and leaned back. "I love jinxing arrogant, inbred degenerates. It's so much _fun_."

Susan tried to look disapproving, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it. "At least take care not to get caught," she sighed, finally admitting defeat. Brenna looked at her mock-defensively. "Don't I _ever_?" she protested, taking on an injured expression when the four Hufflepuffs snorted disbelievingly.

"Fine," she said, jutting out her bottom lip exaggeratedly. "Be that way then."

"Oh, Brenna," Hannah sighed, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning her head onto her shoulder comfortingly. "So tell me. What was it like at the World Cup?"

* * *

><p>"Brenna dear!" Fred Weasley said jauntily as the girl took a step into the famous Quidditch compartment. "Came to join the big boys, did you?" the carrot-top continued as he slung an arm around her shoulders and steered her over to a seat next to his.<p>

The girl was not amused. Neither were her fellow chasers.

"The big _boys_, you say?" Katie asked dangerously as her hand inched over to the wand in her pocket.

"Now I wonder what you could possibly mean by that," Angelina continued nonchalantly, kicking her feet back in a relaxed manner that totally sent the two boys into a harried frenzy.

Not that they showed it.

"Why, Angie dear," George said with a winning smile. "Why would we ever want to upset you girls by insinuating anything?"

"After all," Fred continued, ignoring Brenna's protest as he pulled her into a tight, supposedly reassuring, one-armed hug. "It is entirely clear to us that doing so would only result in disastrous consequences for us –"

"And possibly our future children," George finished, and both of them broke into equally charming grins.

The girls were not charmed.

_Not even a little bit,_ Brenna thought surely as she sneaked a glance at George, who admittedly _did_ look rather cute as the two brothers tried to save their collective arses from the destructive wrath of the infamous Quidditch Trio…

_No_. She told herself firmly. _You are not charmed._

_No._

"Say Angie," Brenna said as she hurriedly banished that thought from her head. "Have you seen Alicia anywhere? I need to talk to her about something –"

"Alicia's with Warrick right now," Angie said with a roll of her eyes, obviously mind-gagging over the sickly-sweet way the two of them acted whenever they were in each other's company. "You don't want to disturb them."

"Perish the thought," Katie said, horrified. "Those two – it's like the rest of the world doesn't even _exist_ when they're together!"

"Aw, come on, you two –"

"Give the girl a break –"

"Just because you girls are perpetually single –"

Katie and Angelina whipped their heads around to vaporize the two redheads with a sharp glare.

They were largely ineffective.

"Of course, you don't have to _stay_ single –" Fred continued helpfully.

"I hear Terrence Higgs from Slytherin holds a rather bright candle for you, my dear Ms. Bell –" George said with a wicked grin.

"Then there's also that Wilkes guy, that seventh year Ravenclaw – he's supposedly _extremely_ enamored by the fiery gold glint of your beautiful brown eyes, My Lady Johnson –" Fred went on.

Angelina and Katie both looked aghast.

"Alright, you guys," Brenna said as she tried to hide her smile. "That's enough. I'll talk to Alicia later then…"

"Why do you want to speak with her anyway?" Katie asked curiously as she fiddled with a loose thread in her T shirt absently.

"Oh," Brenna grinned toothily. "Ron's got these dress robes…"

"The dress robes!" Fred and George gasped simultaneously, and then promptly burst into fits of laughter.

"They're hideous," Brenna explained as the two girls stared at the twins weirdly. "Like, nineteenth century AD, frilly-over-the-top-monstrosity hideous. And he's got to wear them for whatever we need the robes for this year, which is making him extremely embarrassed. Alicia's brilliant at transfiguration, so we were hoping she'd be able to," she paused and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "Fix it."

"I want to know what they look like now," Katie said, a mischievous glint appearing in her blue eyes.

"Don't ask him," Brenna told them firmly. "He's already a bit pouty about it all. He'll take whiny to an impossible extreme if people begin asking him to show them the robes for a laugh."

"That's no fun," Angelina sulked, but then moved on to another subject. "Nobody got the badge this year," she revealed with an unhappy frown.

Brenna gasped. "No way," she protested.

"I don't know why, but I reckon it's got something to do with that thing the adults keep hinting at us about but never coming out and actually saying it," George said with a heavy sigh.

Fred pursed his lips childishly. "I don't like not knowing what's going on."

"So not fair," his twin agreed.

"So, what," Brenna asked incredulously. "There's no Quidditch this year?"

Angelina's expression leveled slightly. "Surely they can't prevent us from having a few pick-up games…" she mused.

"Professor McGonagall wouldn't do that to us," Katie thought out loud.

Brenna sighed. "I've gotta go tell Harry about this," she said, standing up. "He'll want to know what's going on."

The team shouted out their goodbyes and see-you-later's as she walked out of the compartment and made her way back to her original one.

Neville was in the compartment with Harry, Ron and Hermione when she arrived.

"Neville," Brenna said joyfully as she pulled the round-faced boy into a friendly hug.

The boy blushed slightly. "Hi, Brenna," he said to her as he returned the hug tentatively.

Brenna sighed and let go. "You boys," she huffed as she sat down next to Hermione, who was now reading The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and trying to learn the Summoning Charm. "Always so hissy about hugging a girl. Make the flick a little sharper," she added absently to the bushy-haired brunette next to her, who did so and was promptly smacked in the face by the balled-up piece of parchment she had been trying to summon.

"Thanks," Hermione said chirpily and then went about trying to perfect it.

Neville blushed even more at the disparaging comment, which Brenna steadily ignored as she turned towards Harry. "Nobody got the badge this year," she informed him evenly. Harry instantly knew what she was talking about.

"Nobody's Quidditch Captain?" Harry asked incredulously, leaning a bit forward to express his disbelief. Ron gasped in the background. "But how is that possible?"

"George and Fred think it's something to do with that thing the adults are keeping from us," Brenna told him with a sigh. "I think I agree with them."

"But no Quidditch!" Harry protested.

"Angie's thinking about keeping a few pick-up games," Brenna said in a reassuring tone. "It's not the end of Quidditch as we know it."

"Honestly, you Quidditch nuts," Hermione sighed as she performed the Summoning Charm over and over again. "It's all you can think about."

"That's not true!" Brenna protested, but her words dried in her mouth when she noticed Ron pulling out the miniature figure of Victor Krum and showing it off to Neville with pride.

"Gran didn't want to go," Neville was saying miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing, though."

"It was," Ron said enthusiastically. "Look at this, Neville…"

He prodded the figure with the wand, and was rewarded with a few steps in the intended direction and a scowl to his face. Hermione shot her a look that totally screamed _I-told-you-so_.

"Oh wow," Neville said enviously as the figure continued to walk around aimlessly.

"We saw him right up close, as well," Ron said. "We were in the Top Box –"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Malfoy stood at the doorway. Behind him were his faithful sidekicks Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, standing awkwardly with stupid, obviously-trying-too-hard-to-appear-threatening expressions on their faces. Evidently, they'd heard their conversation through the compartment door, which Brenna had left ajar.

She felt like slapping herself.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," Harry said coolly. Malfoy ignored him - whoa, for the first time.

"Weasley… what is that?" Malfoy pointed at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes (if you could call them that) was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" Malfoy looked ecstatic. He held up Ron's robes and showed them to Crabbe and Goyle. "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean – they were fashionable in about 1890 –"

Ron turned red as he snatched the robes back out of the blonde's grip. Said blonde howled with derisive laughter, while his cronies chose to guffaw stupidly. "Eat dung, Malfoy!"

"So… going to enter Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know… you'll be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"

"What are you talking about?" Ron snapped.

"Don't – don't tell me you don't know?" Malfoy said, looking delighted. "You've got a father and a brother in the Ministry and you don't know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago… heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people in the Ministry… Maybe your father's too junior to know about it… yes, they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him –"

Brenna had had enough.

"Shut your pie-hole, you loathsome bastard," she sighed, standing up and physically pushing the blonde diva out of the doorway before shutting the door in his shocked face.

"Bloody ponce," Ron snarled, kicking the opposite seat irritably while ignoring Hermione's reproaches. "Making it look like he knows everything and we don't… Dad could've gotten a promotion anytime, he just likes it where it is…"

"Of course he does," Hermione said quietly. "Don't let him get to you, Ron –"

"_Him? Get to me?_ Ha, as if!" Ron muttered as he picked up a Chocolate Cauldron and squished it to a pulp.

Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey, and he was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch darkness of Hogsmeade station.

Frankly, it was getting on Brenna's nerves.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Brenna stroked a few of Mo's feathers and pressed a light kiss on top of his head before they left the train, Crookshanks bundled up in Hermione's cloak and Pigwidgeon still hidden underneath Ron's dress robes.

The rain coming down was so thick and fast, it was like Brenna was being pelted with rapid bullets of ice-cold water.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled.

"Alrigh', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back with a jaunty wave. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

Thunder cracked above ominously, making Brenna flinch slightly. "Oh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather" she shuddered as they inched slowly with the rest of the crowd. Soon enough, the four of them climbed gratefully into one of the horseless carriages along with Neville, who had unfortunately been hit by a case of the shivers. The door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was splashing its way up the track towards the castle.

Lightning flashed across the sky as the carriage finally pulled to a stop in front of the great oak doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People were already hurrying out of the carriages and into the castle. The group of five was quick to follow the crowd, dashing up the steps and looking up only when they were safely inside the torch-lit entrance hall.

"Blimey," Ron said, shaking his head like a dog and sending water everywhere. "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak – ARGHH!"

A large red water balloon had dropped from the ceiling onto Ron's head, drenching him even more. This was followed by a steady onslaught of more colorful water balloons, one of which Brenna barely escaped.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor McGonagall had come dashing out of the Great Hall, but then suddenly skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch – sorry, Ms. Granger –"

"That's alright, Professor," Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

What then followed was a pointless argument between an angry teacher and a mischievous little poltergeist, which finally ended with his departure after he had been threatened with the presence of the headmaster, but not before he had successfully drenched a group of second years that had just arrived.

"Well, move along, then!" McGonagall said sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

"Here," Brenna said, pulling out her wand and drying them quickly. "Thanks," Hermione said gratefully as they gingerly made their way across the wet floor and through the double doors on the right.

The Great Hall looked amazing as usual, with the ceiling reflecting the stormy atmosphere they had been eager to escape outside. Brenna spotted a few people she knew at the other tables, and offered them smiles and energetic waves (to which they had responded in kind) before settling down into their usual spot near the centre of the Gryffindor table.

She watched in amusement as Harry was ambushed by Colin Creevy, who'd come to inform him that his brother would be starting this year as well, and that he was really excited and hoped he was in Gryffindor as well ("Fingers crossed, yeah?"), before she was greeted by a very unwelcome voice.

"Brenna darling," Cormac McLaggen said pompously as he tried to squeeze into a spot next to her, which she promptly put an end to by pulling some random third year into the seat instead. "You look absolutely ravishing this evening.

Brenna leveled a flat gaze at the arrogant blonde (jeez, are they common), who was looking very pleased with himself for his remark. "McLaggen," she mumbled. "I see you came back."

"Well of course, sweetheart," McLaggen said blithely, ignoring Brenna's low growl at the unwanted nickname. "As if I'd leave you alone without me."

"On the other hand," Brenna muttered, too low for him to hear. "That _actually_ would've been quite preferable."

"Brenna, who's this," Hermione asked with a friendly smile as she noticed the bigheaded fifth year standing behind the fuming fourteen year old. Harry and Ron looked on with curious expressions.

"Cormac McLaggen," he replied overbearingly, practically snatching Hermione's hand as she raised it to kiss her knuckles. Hermione looked a little startled, and Ron, Brenna noticed, was undergoing a steady transition from red to purple.

"Surely Brenna would've mentioned me," McLaggen continued in the same tone, looking at Brenna expectantly. Brenna, however, just looked ill.

"Eh," she paused, trying to figure out how to phrase this particular sentence. "McLaggen… he's – uh… He –" she gave up and looked around helplessly, catching George's eye as her gaze flitted about. He looked a bit concerned, nodding his head at McLaggen, who was still staring at Brenna, waiting for her to say something.

Brenna looked at him pleadingly.

A slight smirk emerged on one corner of George's face as he surreptitiously reached into his pocket, pulled out his wand, and –

There was a sudden screech behind her, making her whirl around to see what had happened, and what she encountered made her desperately try not to burst out laughing.

McLaggen's skin was slowly turning from his normal shade of healthy light brown to a shade of bright orange, with his hair going from blonde to a startling shade of fluorescent green.

He looked like an oompa loompa.

Frankly, he'd never looked better.

He continued to screech audibly, successfully gaining the attention of the entire Hall, which he finally noticed when the sound of laughter began to grow till it reached a level where even the teachers couldn't ignore it anymore, at which point he proceeded to run out of the Great Hall like a scared little girl.

Which he probably was.

But on the other hand, little girls were much cuter. And more tolerable.

Eh.

"Who _was _that?" Hermione finally asked her when the moment of common amusement had passed.

Brenna frowned sulkily. Ick, she really didn't want to do this, it was so embarrassing…

She sighed. "McLaggen's a year above us, in fifth year now. Last year, sometime close to the end of term, I bumped into him in one of the corridors on my way to Ancient Runes. I said sorry, picked up my stuff, and moved on, but he… didn't."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "Didn't? What do you mean, didn't?"

Brenna bit her lip disparagingly. "He hasn't left me alone since then," she finally said, staring at this spot on the table that looked _really_ interesting just then. "You remember those last few days of school when you barely saw me at all?" She didn't wait for them to reply. "Yeah, I'd been hiding from him all that time. He'd been pestering me every minute of every day, and he sent at least a hundred letters during the holidays, no matter the fact that I wouldn't reply to even a single one of them."

Her three best friends were beginning to look very amused.

Brenna scowled. _"He just won't leave me alone!"_ she cried exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in the air and accidentally hitting the third year she'd forced into the seat next to her in the face. Tossing an apologetic look at the boy who was clutching his nose, she turned back to Harry, Ron and Hermione, who looked close to laughter.

"Why don't you just tell him to go away?" Hermione giggled.

Brenna stared at her. "You think I haven't tried that? I told him to piss off the first few times, but he _just won't listen!_ It is so annoying! Arrghh!"

"So you've got yourself a stalker," Harry said with a smile playing on his lips. "Now why does that sound familiar?"

"Ohh," Ron said with dawning comprehension as Hermione became victim to another fit of giggles. "Just like your mom and Bagman…"

"Like mother, like daughter, wouldn't you say so, Brenna?" Hermione laughed.

"Shut up," Brenna pouted.

Life was not fair.

Not even a _little_ bit.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

SO THEY'RE FINALLY AT HOGWARTS.

Man, that took a lot of chapters. I should really look into speeding things up a little bit.

I mean, the ride to Hogwarts alone took up an entire chapter. I had really wanted to include the sorting and the Feast in this chapter, but this one was already exceeding 5000 words.

Sigh. It's just so much _fun_ writing shit and nonsense. I got a real kick outta writing those conversations.

Decisions decisions.

Anyway. I wanted to say that I won't be posting any more chapters for the next fifteen days, because I'll be going on vacation to this remote hill station that in all actuality is _very_ awesome but has no WiFi.

So I'll post sometime in the first week of April. Really, it's not that much of a wait, though. It's just a few more days than usual.

To the people who added this story to their favorites and alerts lists - that was MUCH appreciated. Really. That you love Brenna enough to want to read even more of her makes me feel all light and fuzzy inside.

To the people who reviewed - LIKE SHIT I REACHED A HUNDRED REVIEWS! OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OHMYGOD! A hundred reviews! I'd never thought I'd reach FIFTY! OHMYGOD!

OHMYGOD!

So Brenna will see you soon enough.

Hope you liked the chapter. :)

-Plimpy Soup.


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